


Pirates of Baker Street

by Destielixer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Adventure, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Pirates, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 44,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destielixer/pseuds/Destielixer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. On the run from the East India Company, John becomes a stowaway on a ship. However his luck takes a turn for the worse when said ship sinks during a storm. Passing by the wreck a mysterious crew saves him and John meets the eccentric Captain Sherlock Holmes who takes him on board as the ship's doctor. Slow-build story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jolly Roger in the Distance

**Author's Note:**

> The characters do not belong to me. Ideas are mine, this work is purely made for the fans! :)

A bright silver flash of lightning tears across the midnight black of the night sky, thunder loud and booming following after, the ship pitches forward, throwing its crewmen around as the humongous waves wash overboard. The sailors scramble around hurriedly trying to empty buckets of water over the sides of the ship. Tripping over one another in a panicked frenzy, the captain is in no good shape either as he tries to control the wheel, two hands struggling to grip on to the large wheel.

The wind is howling like a ghost through the night, whipping the ropes to the mast and sails about, tangling them up. Overhead there is a loud ripping sound of the sails and a deep moaning and groaning, which can only be said to be the ship’s mast about to break.

“Captain the mast!” came the frantic shout from the crow’s nest.

In all the panic and frenzy no one notices a man, average height with a golden blonde hair, dressed in the fine linen clothes of a doctor. He hides behind the barrels, clutching his satchel to himself. It’s only been three days that he’s been on board as a stowaway and now, there is this awfully frightful storm. John Hamish Watson sits there, drawing his legs up to his chest as he rolls and rocks along with the ship, the strong waves crashing over the side and soaking him to the bone.

“Lower her sails! Hurry! We don’t want them tearing! And get down here Aron!” came the reply from the captain.

John looks up to the sky, the heavy torrent of rain has soaked the sails through and as the crew scrambles up the sides to take in the sails, lighting once more flashes through the sky and John can hear the screams and shouts followed by the splash as the sailors, fried from the lighting fall from the height of the tall sails and into the ocean’s cold waters below.

“Captain we’ve lost five men. We won’t be able to handle this if it continues. She’s taking on too much water and sinking fast.”

John stops then, hearing those words, sinking, the ship is sinking. He could go along with it. That way they won’t find him, he will not owe his debt to the East India Company any longer. He could join his family, dead in heaven. His sister Harriet had been killed because he hadn’t paid the debts off, god help him, the amount was atrocious to pay back in his life time alone.

So when they had come knocking on his door one day, demanding he pay them back, he fought them off and in the process killed one of them by strangulation. The Company then came up with another plan instead, put him on the wanted list, let the people know of him and bring him in to be hanged. Then the debt would be settled. If that was so, then John would rather take his own life.

“Get the row boats ready and abandon ship. I will stay here. A captain must always go down with his ship. You are in charge now Joshua, take good care of them,” John watches as the one called Joshua gathers the remaining crew and they set to work heaving the two rowboats over the side of the ship, slowly climbing down the ropes into safety. He hears two gunshots and knows the first rowboat is free.

 _‘You should go,’_ came the rational voice in his head but he stayed there, on the deck, behind the barrel. Closing his eyes as he listened to the roaring of the thunder and the crashing of the waves against the sides of a ship, this is his grave. He will die here out at sea somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, far away from the warmth and comfort of a home and the life that he used to have.

Well at least it would be better than dying in front of a whole crowd of people he didn’t even know. Left to hang by the neck until dead, then have his body hung over the walls of the city, named a pirate and act as an example to others who would go against the law, to show them that this is what would become of them. What dignity would he have left then? It had been in his defense that he had killed a man, if he hadn’t he himself would be dead but of course they wouldn’t hear him out.

From the ship’s wheel, John could hear the mutterings of a prayer being said, the captain was saying his confession along with his prayers. With his body numb from the cold, John got onto his knees, making the sign of the cross as he clasps his hands together, offering a prayer up to any god that would hear him.

Just as he has finished and is about to sit once more, there is a loud cracking sound and John’s heart is in his mouth as the mast come crashing down, smashing the ship into two. He is flung overboard by the force of the mast smashing into the ship and for a moment he is submerged underwater. John holds his breathe and heads for what seems to be the surface and he breaks free, gasping. Taking in large gulps of air, he is floating for a moment before another wave crashes over and sends him under the waves once more.

This time his efforts to fight back are not as strong, he is tired, arms and legs leaden from the first attempt at trying to swim back to the surface. John cannot hold his breath for any longer and he begins to take in water, the pain of it slowly ebbing away into numbness. He sees a large piece of wood and the ropes of the mast nearby and in his fading strength, makes a grasp for it.

The mast rises back to the surface, a tangle of torn sails and heavy ropes, a figure is seen, coughing and spluttering, expelling water from his lungs as he clings onto the beam of the mast. His vision is blurry and as John, clings onto the mast in the dying storm, he can see, a shadow rising from the east. As it draws nearer, he realizes it’s in the shape of a ship. John tries to call out to them but his consciousness is fading fast.

The last image he sees is that of massive black sails that swell in the wind of the storm and the Jolly Roger, fluttering eerily in the dying wind.

Pirates.


	2. Let Me Talk To The Captain

“Man overboard! Man overboard! On the starboard side!” calls Donovan from the Nest.

“Mycroft! Lifebuoy!” Lestrade, second in command, orders as he looks over the rails on the starboard side.

“He’s unconscious!” Mycroft says as he joins Lestrade by the rails both looking over the side at the wreck of a ship nearby.  

“Lower the rowboat. Molly, take some blankets with you, you’re coming with me,” he says to the petite woman, as he drops down the rope nimbly and into the rowboat, taking the woolen blankets and furs from Molly setting them aside and helping her into the boat.

“Hold onto these,” he says, piling the furs and blankets back on her and taking the oars.

“Okay,” she answers, holding tight to the warm furs as they make their way out in the light drizzle to the wreckage of the ship.

“Bloody hell, the mast split the whole ship,” Lestrade commented as they neared the scene, picking through the debris, they neared the golden blonde haired head sticking out of the water.

Lestrade lets go of the oars and reaches over the side of the boat, hand going to feel for a pulse on the man’s neck. A soft fluttering of a heartbeat is there, he’s barely holding on to his life. “Molly, ready the blankets we wrap him in it when we’re done,” he says, now attempting to pull in the body of the man.

The body is light and it does not take much effort to lift onto the boat. Lestrade notices a satchel with him and takes it off of the body then they quickly wrap him in the blankets and cover him with the furs. Lestrade turns the boat around now and makes a headway for the ship once more, the oars cutting through the waves, the light drizzle has stopped and once more there is nothing save for the lapping of the water.

The rowboat docks beside the anchored ship and Lestrade and Molly climb up the ladder, joining the rest of the crew as they draw the boat back up. Together the three of them, Lestrade, Molly and Mycroft carry the body out of the rowboat, setting it on the wooden planks of the ship. The crew has gathered around now, even Donovan is down from the Nest.

“Who is he?” Donovan asks, peering at the pale face as it slowly regains its color.

Lestrade shrugs, peeling off the furs and blankets with Molly’s help, “I don’t know, looks like a normal seaman to me,” he says rubbing the man’s arms to induce blood circulation back into the limbs.

“Mycroft, that bag over there, check through its contents see what we can learn from it. I found it on his person when I pulled him in,” Lestrade said pointing to the brown satchel.

Mycroft took the bag, opening it and laying out its contents, “He’s got some surgical instruments, wet bandages, a change of clothes, rosary, locket and a journal,” he says as he takes out each item, “Is he injured? Or maybe a doctor?”

“I doubt he’s injured, maybe he’s a doctor,” Molly offers as she returns with a warm drink in hand.

“The Captain will want to know about that…” Lestrade murmurs, trailing off when he sees a fluttering of eyelashes before the man himself is awake.

-

John lies on his back, staring up at the faces that are crowding around him. They were the ones whose voices he’d been hearing this whole time. He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“You should drink this, it’ll make you feel better,” said a woman with a soft angelic face and light brown hair as she held out a mug to him, steam rising from the hot contents inside.

“Drink it and then tell us who you are and where you’re from,” Lestrade says staring at the man as he sits, then fixes cerulean blue eyes on him.

John takes the mug, the warmth of it transferring to his cold hands as he wraps his fingers around it, bringing it to his lips slowly, the warm fluid fills his mouth, he swallows, letting the warmth spread through his body. Finishing the drink, he hands the mug back to the petite woman.

“What was that drink?” he asks.

“Mint Tea, it helps keep you warm,” she says smiling.

“Alright, now tell us your name, your purpose, occupation and where you come from,” the man with a strict face says, staring him down with fierce grey-ish eyes.

“Um…My name is John…John Hamish Watson. I…I was a doctor on the previous ship and I come from England,” he lies smoothly. They are pirates, all the more reason not to trust them with what he really was doing on that ship. If they knew, they might throw him overboard or send him straight to the Company but that was less likely, seeing as the Company also served to rid the globe of pirates.

“A doctor. Where are you papers?” the strict man asks.

“I…I don’t have them,” John stammers, watching the man’s movements.

“Overboard it is then, come on,” he says dragging John up.

“What? What, no! No! This is a mistake. Um…I demand to talk to your captain this very instant! I want to see the captain!” John shouts, struggling in the strong grasp.

“I am in charge here, the captain is not around,” the man growls.

The crew John notices, follows this man’s orders crowding in and preventing him from escaping as they head to the gangplank. He’s survived once and John realizes that he doesn’t want to die. Not yet, he hasn’t lived enough.

“I demand you take me to your captain!” he shouts, all the louder as he struggles.

There is loud banging of doors, the sound of boots on the wood, deep and hollow, it is coming in this direction. Silence falls over the crew John realizes before a deep, smooth voice calls out. “Lestrade! What is all the fuss out here!”


	3. The Captain & His Quaters

John freezes in the strict man’s grasp, the one whom he guesses should be called Lestrade. The voice is for some reason cold and yet it seems to call to him. He watches as the crew on the deck parts like the red sea to reveal a slender, tall man wearing a rich purple coloured long sleeved shirt, collars wide open revealing pale skin, black breeches and knee-high leather boots. The look was completed by a baldric where the golden hilt of a cutlass glimmered in the sun at his waist and the leather belt where there were two pistols.

The man, whom he now guessed to be the captain, had a strict and yet beautiful face for some reason and John was drawn to those blue grey eyes that stared out at him. The pirate’s black slightly curled hair, lifted gently in the wind and John found himself mesmerized.

“Who is this man? Is he the one causing this entire ruckus?” the pirate asks, coming to stand before them now, “Set him down Lestrade.”

Lestrade does so and John finds himself standing much shorter than the man, he looks up to him, “Are you the captain?” he asks.

-

Sherlock is rather taken by the man’s boldness, the fact that he isn’t even looking the least bit afraid to be in his presence is something he had to take his hat off to. Or maybe he just doesn’t know the extent of his notoriety yet. He studies the shorter man for a moment, light blonde hair, eyes such a startling sea blue, mouth set in a frown now as he looked up to him, waiting for the answer to his question.

He was dressed in simple clothes, faded white shirt that clung to his body with some dampness, suggesting he had been dunked in the sea, breeches that outlined strong legs, he was stocky, well built. He would do well onboard his ship.

“I am Captain Sherlock Holmes and you are?”

“John. John Hamish Watson. I’m a doctor,” John says.

“He doesn’t have his papers, no certification. We can’t trust him captain,” Lestrade says, voice steely.

“Lestrade,” Sherlock warned before turning back to John, “We need a doctor on this ship. You think you can handle being the ship’s surgeon?”

“I can try…” John said, looking to Sherlock as he shifted on his feet, why the captain was giving him a chance to work onboard he didn’t know. But he was thankful that he would have the protection of the pirates for one and another, he didn’t have to be left to die.  

“Good. Welcome aboard the _Bel Ange_ ,” Sherlock said with a smirk.

“Uh yes…thank you…I guess,” John said still a little sheepish at the situation and what he had gotten himself into.

“This here is Greg Lestrade, first in command,” Sherlock said introducing the first mate, “That’s Mycroft…he is my brother,” Sherlock rolled his eyes to which John smiled, he understood siblings and what it meant to have them close by like this, “he makes sure that the crew is in order and we’re stocked up on food and drink. That over there,” he said pointing to a dark-skinned woman with madly curling hair, “is Sally Donovan she’s the eyes of the ship and that’s Molly Hooper,” he said pointing to the petite woman that had been so kind to John, “she helps out my dear Mrs. Hudson, the cook, in the kitchen and she can hold a cutlass better than that one over there,” Sherlock said pointing over to Donovan.

“I heard that Holmes!” came Donovan’s voice as she returned to her post, the nest on the main mast.

The crew that had been gathered around from before dispersed and John guessed that those Sherlock had told him about must be the important ones around here. He took back his bag from Mycroft and followed after Sherlock who beckoned to him.

“Alright, come with me, I need you to sign some papers and stuff, now you belong to me.”

 _‘Now you belong to me…’_ those words sent John’s thoughts flitting to images of him and Sherlock for some reason that were so sinful he couldn’t look at the man as he replied a soft, “Okay.” He didn’t know what it was that made him think in such a way, he wasn’t one of those kinds of people, but when he thought of it, when he thought about it being Sherlock, it seemed to be alright for some reason.

John was led to the captain’s cabin, Sherlock holding a door open to him to step inside. He looked around amazed at the amount of things that he could find there, all sorts of things from all the four corners of the world. Rich Persian rugs, an English tea set, the jade figure of a Chinese junk, scimitars from India and so many other odd trinkets and ornaments that made him feel rather excited at being here, behind a curtain of glass beads, John saw the dark wood of a four poster bed, the captain’s bed.

“Over here John,” came Sherlock’s voice, stopping him from wandering about the room. John walked over to the mahogany desk at the other end of the room, right opposite the door, fiddling the strap of his satchel, “here’s the contract, your papers,” the captain said sliding the parchment across the table to face him.

John’s eyes scanned the sheet of paper, reading through the words quickly. _‘Swear loyalty to the captain…betrayal will result in marooning…able-bodied crew must perform his service well under the captain’s supervision…all personal belonging will now belong to the captain.’_ he raised a brow at that.

“Problem?” came Sherlock’s voice.

“No…I mean yes…this is all I have left,” John said indicating his satchel, “I’m not going to give it to you.”

“You have to, the rules in the book, John.”

“Your rules. No, I want to negotiate.”

This time it was Sherlock’s turn to raise a brow, “Negotiate what?”

“You can have everything in the bag except the journal and Harry’s locket.”

“Harry?” Sherlock questions and John sees a flash of some emotion in the blue-grey eyes.

“My sister, Harriet, she’s dead,” John said, seeing sympathy in the captain’s eyes.

“Only the locket then.”

“No. I need the journal as well. I record everything inside there,” John said.

Sherlock shook his head, a smile on his lips, stifling a laugh, “What are you going to write with?” he asked seeing realization dawn on the other’s face, “And what do you actually record in there?”

“Whatever happens in the day I guess? Personal things mainly and if I work for you, you can pay me in pen and ink,” John said, really anything would be fine as long as he could stay hidden from the East India Company, of course he couldn’t tell Sherlock that and keep these two precious belongings of his.

“Alright, fine the journal and the locket. You will treat all the patients to the best of your abilities then?” Sherlock asked to which John nodded, “Good, now sign the papers.”

John took one more look at the papers, then bending down, he signed his name onto the list, right at the bottom.

“Your things?” Sherlock asked holding his hand out.

John rolled his eyes in exasperation, taking out the locket and his journal from the bag and holding it to himself before dropping the satchel into Sherlock’s outstretched hand.

“Is that it?” John asked, expecting more.

“Not quite, your thumb?” Sherlock asked as he set John’s satchel to the side.

“Excuse me?” John asked confused now.

“Give me your thumb,” Sherlock held his hand out, waiting.

Reluctantly John, shifted the journal to his left hand and stuck out his right thumb, feeling the other’s warm, firm grip touch him and a small pin prick, “Ouch! What the hell?” he pulled back his thumb seeing a bead of blood forming on the broken surface of the skin.

“Press it to the paper now,” Sherlock instructed, “Right next to your name.”

John did as followed and then put his thumb to his lips, sucking off the remaining blood.

“Brothers in name and blood. Go find Mycroft now and he will assign you to a room. I will see you at dinner.”

-

John left the captain’s cabin holding onto his journal the locket on his neck now as he headed for the tall man, Mycroft. He was older and had similar features to Sherlock though he was balding just slightly, he looked surprised, John realized as he approached him.

“I see Sherlock let you keep your belongings,” Mycroft commented.

“Its’ just these two…he took the rest of my things,” John said fingering the locket. 

“Lucky fellow you are. Come, your room is just this way,” Mycroft said turning and headed down the starboard side of the ship, “Main deck. You’re a doctor this is your quarters, right across from the captain’s just in case anything should happen.”

“Dinner will be below decks later when the sky darkens, you’ll hear a bell, you can’t miss it. Mrs. Hudson’s cooking is real good so you’ll want to grab as much as possible. I suppose Sherlock will want you at the main table this evening, since you’re new so…try to clean up, get some rest and all before you go to dinner,” Mycroft said before leaving.

“Thank you,” John replied, entering the rather large room, hearing the door close as Mycroft left. The room was dimly lit by candlelight, there was a window that allowed ventilation in the room. It was a small, simple room compared to the captain’s, yet John thought, compared to sleeping below decks in hammocks, a bed was good enough for him.

He set his journal on a small carved wooden desk, next to the candle. Surveying the area he saw a table with various ingredients, salves and bandages in the cupboard bolted overhead on the opposite side of the room near the door. Apart from those, which he guessed was to be his new set of equipment, the room was sparsely furnished.

He took a seat on the small bed now, it was soft and comfortable and his tired body sank willingly into the comfort of the mattress John sighed as he lay his head back on the pillow, fingering the locket around his neck, “Harry, I’ve got a new home again.”


	4. Payment of Pen & Ink

Sherlock stood in his cabin, rummaging through one of the many piles of treasure that he has amassed trying to find some ink and a quill. He finds bound leather books, necklaces, rings brooches and finally a leather casing that contains a beautiful quill, fashioned of a peacock’s feather and tipped in gold it was the perfect ‘welcome aboard’ gift for John who would want to write. Sherlock took a new bottle of black ink from his stationery putting it next to the leather case that contained the quill. John would sit at the main table today, just for today with him and the rest.

Satisfied with his look, he checks himself one last time in the full-length mirror, takes the ink and leather casing and heads down into the galley where the tables have been set up for dinner. Of course the wine caskets won’t be out tonight because they will be docking in Tortuga, the pirate haven for the night where they will drink to their hearts content.

Sherlock scans the room looking for a particular person, the light blonde haired head of a certain John Watson. He spots him soon enough, with Molly and Mrs. Hudson, smiling, he strides up to them, kissing Mrs. Hudson on the cheek, “Good evening milady,” he teases her. She is a rather senior woman in her early fifties, a kind and caring person, to Sherlock she is like his mother, the mother he never had.

“Oh Sherlock,” she says, smiling as she bats him on the arm playfully.

“I see you met Mrs. Hudson, John?” Sherlock says looking to the other man, “She’s the best cook any pirate ship could have.”

“Now Sherlock, flattery isn’t going to make me keep special portions for you,” Mrs. Hudson chides as she goes back into the kitchen to bring out more food, Molly going along with her.

“She’s very nice for a pirate ship’s cook…” John says as he walks beside the captain, following him to what he guesses is the main table.

Sherlock indicates the seat on the bench to his left as he takes his place at the head, “She’s not much of a pirate really. More like a mother to all of us.”

“And the rest of them?” John asks, noticing that there is still not many people at their table yet.

“Each one of them, has their own story to tell I guess. You can ask them yourselves,” Sherlock says, then pauses, “Before I forget, this is for you,” he says taking the leather case and the bottle of ink out from his coat pockets and handing it to John.

“For me?” John asks rather surprised by the gesture.

“Don’t get all happy now. You said to pay you in pen and ink so here it is, your first payment to ensure that you do a good job as the ship’s doctor,” Sherlock said, a smirk on his lips when he saw the other’s happiness fade into an annoyed expression.

“I didn’t mean it literally…I’ll need money as well won’t I?” John asks, thanking Molly who sets his plate, laden with delicious food down before him, his stomach growls loud enough for Sherlock to hear and he sees the captain look away trying to stifle a laugh. “I’m hungry dammit, it’s only human,” John retorts, a little embarrassed as he begins to dig into the food.

“I know you probably didn’t eat a good meal since goodness knows when, being a stowaway and all.”

John freezes, his mouth still full of food, quickly he chews and swallows, fearing his secret is out, “How did you know?” he asks trying to keep his cool.

“Hmm, the fact that you had nothing but a satchel clutched to you even as you hung on for dear life, the fact that you’re still in the exact same clothes that you came in and…” Sherlock trailed off indicating John’s nearly empty plate, “the fact that you’re eating up all this in seconds.”

John furrows a brow at the man, he’s smart for a pirate, he cannot deny. When Molly comes again to clear his plate he offers to help her but she shakes her head shyly and refuses. It’s about then that John realizes that they are still the only two sitting together at one table while all the rest are crowded with people. “Where’s the rest of them? Aren’t they supposed to be here or are you always alone?” he asked.

“You ask quite a lot of questions you know. For one yes, you could say I’m always alone. I am the captain what do you expect. The crew fears me,” Sherlock said matter-of-factly, “Secondly Lestrade’s always at the helm during dinner, Molly as well adopts the same routine, taking her dinner time up in the nest. Mycroft sits right over there,” Sherlock said pointing to a table in the corner of the galley  where John spotted Sherlock’s older brother.

“Sibling rivalry?” John asks, jokingly.

“You could say. Then you saw Molly, she helps out in the kitchen like I said so yes, I spend most of the time on the ship alone.”

“And you’re proud of that? Being alone?” John asks.

It had never really occurred to Sherlock before, the notion of having friends, of putting all your trust solely in one person alone…of having someone to confide in, in times of need. But now that John talked about it, yes, he wanted friends, a companion. He was lonely but he wouldn’t say it. “Yes. I’m just fine on my own, thank you.”

John shook his head at the reply, it wasn’t his business anyway, he took the leather casing now, opening it, his eyes widened at the exquisiteness of the quill, of course he had to remind himself that this belonged in the possession of a pirate and he had probably plundered it off some poor chap’s ship.

“Do you like it? It’s peacock feathers and gold.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” John said, lovingly touching the golden tip of the quill, it was truly a lovely gift, “Thank you, I’ll work hard in return I promise.”

It made Sherlock smile for some reason as a feeling of happiness bubbled inside his chest. This must be how it felt to give gifts to friends and see them happy, “I’m glad you like it,” he says, his words sincere, “You better work hard or I’d have wasted this on you as payment.”

“Clearly you need experience on how to talk to people nicely,” John said as he, closed the leather case that contained the quill and stood to go, a smile on his face at the captain’s gift.  

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked, anxious that his company was already leaving so soon and worried that it might have been because of his bad manners.

“Back to my room, I want to write now that you’ve given me this.”

“Oh. We’ll be docking at Tortuga sometime later for drinks just to let you know,” Sherlock says watching as John nods and waving at him, leaves the table headed back for the main deck.

Sherlock is once more left alone and he feels the loneliness this time. “I don’t need friends,” he mutters as he takes to the main deck. He finds Lestrade and Donovan at the helm together, talking, smiling and laughing. _‘Are you proud of that? Being alone?’_ John’s words ring in his head. He stands now on the Starboard side of the ship, he looks towards the cabin where John is in, the soft glow of candlelight flickering through the open window.

_‘A friend…’_ he thought to himself, watching now as Lestrade smoothly docks the ship and the crew lowers the anchor.


	5. The Captain Makes A Friend

John is curled up in bed, the quill in his hand as he writes, he feels the ship jerk to a stop and he knows that they’ve stopped in Tortuga. He would stay here of course, he wasn’t much of a drinker. He lowered his hand to the page to write as there was a loud cheer from out on deck as the pirates made their way off the ship and to the taverns and bars on the island.

_I got saved by a band of pirates today. I hadn’t expected to live when I went down with the ship. I’m on the Bel Ange now, if I’m not wrong I think it means Beautiful Angel in French or something. The crew is about fifty strong I think? I didn’t actually get to see all of them, I met the important people though. Lestrade the first mate, Donovan the eyes of the ship, Mycroft and Molly and Mrs. Hudson as well. Then there’s the captain, Sherlock Holmes…_

John paused there, dipping the quill back into the inkwell when he was startled by the sudden entrance of said captain himself who stood at the door to his cabin, a smirk on his lips.

“Why didn’t you knock?” John asked, glaring at him as he blew on the ink as it dried on the pages of his journal.

“I’m the captain do I need to knock?” he asked.

“Yes. You do. It’s perfect knowledge on privacy between a captain and his crew member,” John said, shutting the journal and putting himself between Sherlock and it as the captain took a seat on the bed beside him, “Why are you here?” he asks curious now, “Don’t you drink?”

Sherlock shrugged at the question, “Never been much of a drinker myself,” he said a small smile on his lips, he was glad John hadn’t chased him out.

“Not what I expected of a pirate captain. I thought all pirates love to drink?” John asked going to put the journal on the desk now, he cleaned off the quill on the rag he’d found in the cupboard and kept it back in the case, closing the inkwell.

“I’m not most pirates John Watson,” Sherlock said, watching John’s smooth movements around the room.

“I know, I can see that Mr. Holmes,” the other man said and Sherlock had to stifle a laugh.

“You can call me Sherlock,” he said, “I don’t really mind,” he added.

John cocked his head, looking to him, “Alright, Sherlock.”

Said captain was happy with the current progress and he wanted to tell John more so he motioned for him to take a seat on the bed beside him to which John shook his head and sat on the chair at the desk instead.

“So what is it you do as a pirate? I mean I had the impression that you lot would be…you know,” John said, making some gestures when he didn’t know what to fill in the blanks with.

“What? More uncouth? More filthy with scurvy and rampant disease and all?” Sherlock asked to which he saw John’s nod, he laughed out loud this time, clearly the man had been fed with the stereotypical images of a pirate. “I’ll tell you this you can forget about your stereotypes John, we’re a different bunch and we don’t exactly steal, we negotiate with the other ship’s captain in a way that benefits us completely. Thing is the captain’s don’t actually notice it and end up losing everything.”

“That’s as good as being a full-fledged pirate,” John said not getting it at all.

“How do it put this…I’m the smartest pirate there is on the whole seven seas! Witty and all its included under my profile, like this okay say you’re the captain of a ship right and I tell you, I’ve got a nicer ship waiting out on the cove for you. If you give me your ship I’ll let you go free, unhurt if not you’ll die right here.”

John raised a brow, “That’s crude…besides they won’t believe you in the first place!”

“That’s the point! Pirate. Remember?” Sherlock said, reminding John of the position they were in. “But people’s minds are wired in such a way that when faced with life or death they choose to accept whatever it is you offer to escape death. You understand?”

John shook his head, “No. Not really.”

He chuckled, “You’ll get it sometime down the road.”

“How’d you get this ship then? Did you talk it out of someone?” John asked.

“No I bought it myself with the money and wealth that I talked out of another pirate captain. _Bel Ange_ is a Brigantine, a square rigged two mast vessel, fastest of her kind at the moment. She’s been my home for ages,” Sherlock said, his mind going back to the time when he had shared it with his friend, well…what used to be his friend anyway.

John couldn’t say much about his past lest he talk about the East India Company so he told Sherlock the basics, “I grew up in a family of four. My father, mother, elder sister and me, we were an average family I guess and…I left home when they all died.”

Sherlock studied the man’s face, knowing there was something wrong to it, something off but it wasn’t in his right to pry. Not now at least, instead he thinks of something else. “Come, we should probably get you some new clothes. I should have something in my horde that will fit you nicely.

“I don’t think I’ll need any,” John said not wanting to impose.

“You’ll need it, yours are tattered as rags, come,” Sherlock said holding the door open for him.

Reluctantly John followed the captain right back across the ship’s main deck. There was no one around save for the two of them. John looked portside, there was the town of Tortuga lit by gas lamps and candlelight. He’d never seen a pirate haven before and this was his first.

He was amazed at the amount of wrongness that was gathered, there, there were people drinking and fighting in the streets, some were walking around with busty prostitutes while others were already in the midst of being serviced right in the middle of the streets.

“Hello there handsome, fancy a night with me?” came a voice from somewhere near the ship.

John looked down to see a beautifully dressed woman, in a pale blue dress, cut so low that John could see the tops of her breasts peeking out. She smiled coyly at him, fluttering her eyelashes as she fanned herself with a black laced fan. “I…um…” he began.

“He’s busy, come back later,” Sherlock called dragging John away from the railing and into his quarters. “John do you know what you’re dealing with down there? They’re sharks!”

“They’re women,” John said, rolling his eyes in exasperation as Sherlock shut the doors to the cabin behind him, “Let me guess you don’t interact with prostitutes as well.”

“You don’t know how many of them are diseased John, they could be carrying virus that could kill us,” Sherlock said rummaging around in a chest full of clothes.

“You let your crew go there,” John said, catching a light blue shirt that Sherlock threw to him.

“Well I don’t sleep around with my crew do I?” Sherlock asked as he turned catching the other halfway stuck as he put on the shirt, the tan expanse of his torso sent a tingle through his body and Sherlock turned his gaze away again, pretending he had not seen.

“The day you do, you let me know,” John joked as he walked to Sherlock, in the blue shirt, “Well? Is it okay?”

“It looks good on you. Not too loose,” Sherlock said smiling, the loneliness from much earlier gone now that John was here. “You should wear this as well,” he said handing John a pair of breeches.

It was about that time that the crew was crowding back onto the ship, the boisterous laughter and shouts to the ladies back on shore could be heard even from the captain’s cabin. Sherlock’s lips lifted in a smile, “That’s them, we’ll be setting out tomorrow first thing so, get some sleep tonight you must be tired with what you went through today and all.”

John took the breeches from Sherlock, draping it over his shoulder, he gave the captain a smile, “Yeah I’m sure as hell tired, well, goodnight then Sherlock,” he said, then turned and made his way to the door.

“Goodnight John,” Sherlock said, a smile on his lips which faded when John left as he was once again alone in the captain’s cabin.


	6. A Captain's Fears

Two days have passed since the night in the cabin, John has become Sherlock’s rather close friend. The crew is slightly fazed by this but they accept him completely. The _Bel Ange_ has truly become John’s new home indeed. He has fallen into a routine of joining Lestrade for the morning exercise then preparing breakfast and talking to Mrs. Hudson after which he will join Sherlock in the captain’s cabin to plan the route for the day.

In the afternoon he would offer to help Mycroft and the men on deck to clean the deck and the cannons and today was no different, the sun was out pouring its light onto the crew cleaning on deck and there was a gentle sea breeze blowing in their direction. John was situated at the side nearest to the bow on the port side, cleaning a cannon together with another crew member called Jaz.

All was quiet and calm as per the usual, they were on the Pacific ocean now, headed towards Port Allen Harbor which is located on the southern shores of Hawaii's Kauai island, one of the northernmost island in the Hawaiian chain according to Sherlock.

Suddenly the loud tolling of the ship’s bell breaks the silence of the afternoon and Donovan’s loud voice carries down to the main deck, “Captain! It’s him, he’s gaining on us, portside!”

John is confused by her words, who is this ‘him’ that Donovan’s talking about? He stands now, making his way towards the helm as he looks to Sherlock who is just closing his telescope.

“Battle stations everyone!” he hears Sherlock yell to the crew, the men scrambling around as they go to take their places.

“What?” he finds himself saying, rooted to the ground as the crew around him prepares for battle. John looks around and he realizes that he is the only one unarmed. Even Molly and Mrs. Hudson had at least a pistol and a chopping knife. He doesn’t know the least bit about sword fighting, with a cutlass to top it off and although he can vaguely recall how to use a pistol he doesn’t have one on his person at all. So he can only stand there and watch as the ship slowly draws nearer and then pulls up alongside them.

The crew on the other side is armed to the teeth John notices and he can immediately tell which one is the captain from his extremely flamboyant dressing, he has a red cape draped around his shoulders and on his head sits a jeweled crown. Now this, John thinks, this is indeed the stereotypical pirate captain. Said pirate captain now walks closer to the ship’s starboard side, shouting over to them.

“Sherlock! It’s me! Jim Moriarty, hi!!” John hears the singsong voice of the man named Jim. He drawls on Sherlock’s name drawing out the ‘r’ into a purr as he calls out to Sherlock.

John looks as Sherlock climbs down from the helm of the ship, walking to the railings on the portside of the ship, his smooth, deep voice carrying over the lapping sounds of the waves as he speaks.

“What’s your business here Jim? This is my turf of sea you’re on. I have the right to blast you right out of the waters and don’t think I won’t do it.”

“No fair Sherlylocks you’re being selfish again! But tough! I’m here so suck it!” Jim says grinning like a little boy as his eyes look over the ship.

John just so happens to be watching and is caught looking at the other ship’s captain who is now turning his gaze fully on him, smirking.

“Oooh Sherly who’s this?” Jim asks jumping across with much grace for a man wearing a stupid crown on his head and a cape. Sherlock doesn’t want to answer that question and he watches as Jim stands before John, leaning in close, too close for his liking and touching his face, “Did you get yourself a new pet now Sherly?” he questions turning to look at him with John’s face still in his hands.

Sherlock steps forward taking John from Jim’s grasp, “He’s mine don’t you dare touch him Jim you hear?” he growls, his arm draped protectively over John’s shoulder.

“Someone’s touchy today. Is he special?” Jim asks.

“He’s my friend,” Sherlock finds himself saying to which it makes John smile inwardly.

John is still confused though as to whom this man really is and he is startled when the man takes his left hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it, “En Chante Ma Cherie, Captain Jim Moriarty of the _Mauvais Ange_ at your service.”

Jim Moriarty? Why had that name sounded so familiar? He takes in the man’s flamboyant appearance and then he remembers, seeing the man on the sketches of the Wanted posters all over the town. He remembered the bounty on his head and the offences he’d committed, ‘Wanted for rape’ the numerous posters had always said, John pulled his hand back, moving just a tad bit closer to Sherlock.

“Enough of this nonsense Jim. If you have no business here on my waters, I suggest that you let us be and leave.”

There was a slight laughter from Jim and he swept his cape back, “I’m not the only one who came here to see you Sherlock, apparently you leave a trail of followers behind in your wake,” he made a motion and a tall well-built muscled man, set out a gangplank linking Moriarty’s ship to Sherlock’s. “I’m sure you remember Ms. Adler?”Jim said.

John looked across the deck as a slim pretty woman stepped up onto the gangway, not bothered that she might fall over into the ocean’s waters and walked over to their ship. She jumps down from the gangway and John sees Sherlock freeze, he can feel it from the captain’s grip that was still around his shoulder.

“Hello sexy,” she coos, smiling seductively at Sherlock, he never knew that his friend would actually have a woman like her and inside John’s heart he felt a nagging of a feeling as he watches Sherlock smile at her, “Irene,” he hears Sherlock’s deep voice say then watches as Sherlock walks off with her into the captain’s cabin.

-

Sherlock enters his cabin with Irene and she turns to face him now, her large deep brown eyes staring up into his. “Sherlock I must let you know that the East India Company is on your trail, you have to careful in covering up your tracks. Moriarty wanted me to warn you, he doesn’t have the guts to come in here and tell you at all.”

“He’s a wimp of a captain then,” Sherlock said folding his arms across his chest watching as Irene moved about the room, looking from pile to pile of the treasures she had gathered.

“And you Sherlock? How are you? I seen you’ve gotten a new friend?” Irene says as she picks up a blood red brooch.

“Who, John?” Sherlock asked smiling a  little as he said John’s name, “The crew fished him out of the sea a few days back, a stowaway.”

“You haven’t told him then?” she asked studying a diamond ring as she drops it into her pocket with the brooch.

“About what?” Sherlock asked already knowing what Irene was getting at.

“The bounty on your head as Pirate King and on his for joining the crew of the pirate King,” she said staring at him.

“I don’t want to tell him not yet.”

“Your whole crew knows Sherlock, one of them is bound to tell. See what your friend will think of you then when you’ve lied to him for so long.”

“I’m afraid,” Sherlock murmured.

“What? Afraid? Of what?” Irene asked.

Sherlock looked away, he didn’t know how to put this into words, “If I tell John, he’ll…leave. He’ll leave me and the ship at the next port we dock at I’m certain of it.”

Irene’s lips curled into a sly smirk, “Let me guess Sherlock you got attached to Mr. Goody-two-shoes?”

“I did not say that. It’s…he’s my friend, I think the only one I’ve ever had in so long…he doesn’t discriminate me for…for being overly smart and when most of the time I’m lonely, he’ll be there for me now…” Sherlock trailed off.

“That’s as good as attachment Sherlock. I’m glad Jim isn’t here to hear this or he’d freak when he finds out you got a new best friend,” Irene said shaking her head, “Well time’s up, we need to be going,” she murmurs heading towards the doors of the cabin, she pauses there, “Like I said Sherlock, you best beware to cover your trails up lest the East India Company catches up to you.”


	7. Sherlock's Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so i'm here with the next chapter as promised. I do hope that you guys will leave some comments, thanks! And i'll see you all in the next update!

Chapter 7

“I’ll get you again next time Sherlylocks!” Jim calls as the _Mauvais Ange_ heads towards the horizon.

John still standing onboard the main deck could feel the heavy tension on deck lift with the leave of the pirate Captain Jim. He looked to where shock was now, just standing near his cabin and he wondered what was it that Sherlock, Irene and Jim had. Especially Irene, going into his cabin for a whole long time, he didn’t like it for some reason and that tingling emotion of jealousy, as he had come to realize had bubbled hot in his veins.

John watched now as the captain walked over towards him, fixing him with a hard stare, “You. You need to learn how to use a sword and a pistol for that matter,” he said stopping before him.

“I know how to use a pistol well enough,” John said to which Sherlock nodded.

“Alright. Good,” Sherlock said, clearing his throat as the deck began to bustle with activity again, “Lestrade! Teach him to wield a blade. I want him to be able to do so by sun down,” Sherlock said and then he turned on his heel and headed back to the confines of his cabin.

John was left there on his own for a moment in the middle of the bustling ship as he watched Sherlock slink back into his cabin he wanted to go after him to ask what was the matter as a good friend should but Lestrade grabbed his arm and took him to the empty area nearer the bow where they had sword practice every morning.

“Okay the first thing you need to know is how to hold your cutlass. Treat it as a part of your body, that’s the main deal when fighting with pirates,” Lestrade explained.

John took hold of the hilt of the cutlass, the blade glinting in the afternoon sun, “We’re going to use real swords to practice?” he asked not liking the sound of it at all, what if there was an accident?

Lestrade shrugged, “You’ve just got to be careful, besides what’s a finger or two lost?”

John paled at that to which Lestrade laughed, “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I’m just kidding, now come, show me your battle pose.”

-

Sherlock can hear the sounds of laughter outside on deck, Lestrade is teaching John to fight and fend for himself and here he sits, the Pirate King, alone in his cabin. He closes his eyes, leaning back in his chair as he props his booted feet up on the desk. He is thinking, about what Irene had said and about Moriarty actually making the effort to come and visit him.

_‘That’s the reason why I don’t want friends they always leave you for someone whom they think is better…’_ he thought as he recalled when Jim had first found a man named Sebastian Moran, a member of the navy whom he had fallen in love with and then subsequently run off with to have their own ship. They were young then, Sherlock having known that sometimes the friendship between two men could grow to more than just friendship.

No, he hadn’t been in love with Moriarty, never. Neither had he loved Irene, but he had trusted them and Moriarty had betrayed that trust, taking the ship for himself and making himself captain and leaving Sherlock alone at twenty-three on Tortuga, with no ship, no crew and nothing to his name save for his brother Mycroft.

The two had spent the time arguing over what was the best course of action to take after which Sherlock decided to steal the treasure from the many ships gathered in Tortuga and to buy himself a new ship which resulted in the _Bel Ange_ he had furnished her from scratch, stitching her sails, painting her cabins.

Then had come the most difficult, finding a crew large enough. He had headed to the pub which Mrs. Hudson had used to serve in, one that he frequented, set up a booth where he and Mycroft interviewed all those that were interested. He’d found Lestrade there, rebel and a deserter of the navy. Donovan had dressed up as a man to join up, thinking that it was another all men onboard only ship.

With about thirty five men under his name he took to the ship, preparing getting ready that was when Mrs. Hudson said that she would join them, as a cook. Sherlock was overjoyed that she had joined, his surrogate mother someone who he had known for so long. Then he’d started out making a reputation for himself as his crew began to grow along.

Molly herself had been picked up about six months back and had always been the silent one, she had come up to him in Port de Honfleur, the harbor of the town of Honfleur in France. Her request had been simple, she had told him she would offer any of her services if he just took her onboard the ship, told him she knew how to use a cutlass and pistol and he decided to take her on.

Sherlock opened his eyes once more realizing that he had nearly dozed off in his recollection of memories. The orange glow of the evening sun, told him that it was near sun down and he stood, stretching, he decided to head out onto the main deck to see what was the progress with John. He straps on his cutlass then heads out on deck, the cool evening breeze lifting his spirits.

He can see there is a crowd gathered around the bow, the practice area, cheering and calling John’s name. Sherlock smirks, John must be good and he wants a taste of John’s blade as well. He clears his throat as he enters the crowd and the noise dies down a little in the centre of the human formed arena is John and another crew member who is held at sword point on his back. Sherlock’s grin only increases as he looks to John, covered in perspiration, the shirt sticking to his body, those sky blue eyes turn to look to him and John nods in a friendly greeting.

“I see you’ve made progress John, I think it’s time you gave me a taste of your blade.”


	8. A Taste of John's Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So here's the next chapter update for the story :) It still has a long way more to go. I hope you're all enjoying it so far? Do read and leave me some comments, i'd really love to know what you think of the story so far.

John thrusts forward the blade slicing through air as Sherlock dodges quick as lightning coming up behind him and surprising him, John leaps back, nearly tripping as Sherlock pushes him back. He raises his sword once more, swiping it in an arc, deflecting Sherlock’s blow. He sees the captain’s lips curl in a smirk, a challenge that John cannot help but silently accept.

He pushes on now, slashing and swiping at the captain who deflects all his blows perfectly, not breaking a sweat as they dance across the deck, the evening sun setting slowly in the ocean as though it too wanted to see who would be victorious in the match. All around them the crew lined the rails of the ship, watching in bated breath as their captain fought with a new crewman who had just learnt the makings of a cutlass.

It takes only a moment of distraction and John finds himself unarmed, the sword embedded in the wood of the deck, vibrating as it stuck out like a sore thumb. Sherlock did the same, embedding his sword in the ground, then he charged, pushing John to the ground. Surprised, John clung to him as they fell onto the ship’s deck.

As they landed Sherlock heard the quick huff of breath driven from John’s lungs as the other grabbed onto his shirt, staring up at him. Sherlock smirked, as John twisted around beneath him trying to break free, instead Sherlock seized his wrists in his hands holding him prisoner as he pressed his body down onto the deck, pinning John beneath him.

John panted staring up into the blue-grey eyes of Sherlock’s the little smirk of challenge still there. John fought again and rolled the captain over onto his back, a little smirk of his own ghosting his lips when he had the captain pinned to the deck, straddling that lithe body. But of course he knew Sherlock wouldn’t go down like this, he was the captain and the crew was watching.

With renewed strength, Sherlock rolled John beneath him in a swift motion, pressing a knee into John’s belly and he held him there. John lay, subdued beneath him, panting, angry at Sherlock’s dominance and yet strangely satisfied at the outcome. He can feel it, the thrum of the sexual attraction is there for some reason between them and he cannot deny that he doesn’t like it.

“Good job,” Sherlock whispers in his ear before pulling away, letting John go as he takes his sword with him.

John pulls himself up, shaking himself as he stares after Sherlock still shaken and yet deeply enthralled.

“That was one helluva fight you had there between the captain and you,” Lestrade said clapping him on the back.

“Yeah. I know.” John said, watching as the crowd gathered began to disperse.

“Go take a shower then, dinner should be ready by then,” Lestrade said, “Oh and you can keep that sword, it’ll be yours from now on. Make sure I see it shinning or I’ll have your head for it,” he joked as he went back to his place at the helm.

John headed back to his room, setting the cutlass and it’s scabbard down on the bed, taking a new set of clothes he headed down, past the galley to the shower stalls. He quickly stripped off his clothes and stepped into the cool spray of the shower, closing his eyes and putting his head underneath the water, his mind wandering to the fierce fire of emotion in Sherlock’s eyes as they had fought.

 _‘What the hell was that?’_ John thought to himself, he had seen the lust raging in the pirate captain’s eyes, lust towards him. He shuddered at the thought of it, grabbing the bar of soap he slathered himself with it, quickly washing down as he tried to keep the thoughts at bay. Pulling on his new shirt and breeches he headed back up on deck, feeling fresh, hair still damp.

“John!” he hears a voice call and he looks around the large deck of the ship, seeing Mycroft headed in his direction.

“You’re to take the captain his food,” Mycroft says.

“Isn’t Molly here to do it and aren’t you Sherlock’s brother? You can do it can’t you?” John asked, he didn’t want to see Sherlock that soon, not after what had happened that evening.

“No. Sherlock and I don’t get along much as you have noticed. Molly’s got a bout of fever which I’ll need you to treat later so get to,” Mycroft said then headed off down below.

John rolled his eyes and stomped down into the galley where he found Mrs. Hudson preparing a tray that he guessed would be the one he was to take up to Sherlock.

“You might want to be just a tad bit careful. Sherlock might not be used to Molly not serving him the food. If he makes a fuss about it you tell me alright?” Mrs. Hudson said, a warm smile on her face.

John nodded, taking the tray.

“But I doubt he will, that boy’s taken a liking to you already,” she muttered as she got on with her work.

He climbed back up onto the main deck, the sun had set and the sky was now darkening, stars were appearing in the sky and John had most likely just been sent to his grave. He made his way slowly across the deck of the ship trying to prolong the moment of meeting Sherlock.  

-

Sherlock shook the image of John from his mind as he took a shower. He hadn’t known what had overcome him, what had made him want to dominate John when they had been fighting that evening on deck. He had never seen anyone fight like John did before, struggling beneath him with so much vigor.

He would very much love to see that in his bed. _‘What? No. No. John is a friend not…’_ he thought, hearing a knock from the door to his cabin. At this timing it could only be one thing, dinner. He quickly toweled himself dry then pulled on his breeches and headed out of the shower.


	9. Trust Issues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the next chapter update for this story i do hope that you guys are enjoying this story as much as i am right now. Please do read and leave me some comments guys, comments always make my day! :) Also, i've got more Sherlock stories coming up soon so stay tuned. Now, read on!

John had already knocked twice and there was no answer so he let himself into the cabin, there was no one there, nothing not a person in sight. The mahogany desk straight ahead was empty.

“Molly? Is that you? I’m starved,” came Sherlock’s voice as he exited the room.

John looks to the direction of the voice to see Sherlock, half naked, dressed in breeches and nothing else, he balks, nearly dropping the tray of food.

“You’ll want to be careful with that John,” the captain says dismissively as he goes to sit in his chair at the great mahogany desk.

He is topless, and John cannot help but to let his eyes study Sherlock’s body, lean and slightly muscled was his torso, a dark dusting of black hair trailing from his belly button and down into those breeches. John blushed at the thought of more, of what would be in Sherlock’s pants. He makes his way slowly to the desk, hands trembling as he sets the tray of food down.

“Why are you here?” Sherlock asks, looking to John, noting the slight coloration on his cheeks.

“Molly is sick, so your brother asked me to bring it to you…”

“That stupid imbecile,” Sherlock growls as he shakes his head, “You’ve been here less than a week and Mycroft sends you to me with my food. How am I to know that you didn’t poison my food?”

John is hurt by the distrust in Sherlock’s voice, his accusation, he’d thought that they were friends! “Why will I even think about that? Don’t you trust me?”

_‘I think I trust you too much…’_ Sherlock thinks looking up to John who stares at him accusingly.

“You know what? Forget it. I told Mycroft I didn’t want to bring you your bloody food in the first place anyway,” John said, angered, he turns to go but is met with resistance when he feels cool fingers grab onto his wrist his heart skips a beat at the contact and he turns back, seeing Sherlock standing behind his desk, eyes pleading.

“John. I…I apologize. I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to accuse you it’s just…” he pauses he isn’t good with words, he goes around the table, coming to stand before John now. “I’m sorry. I trust you John. I do, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend right now and I’m just…paranoid I guess..”

John shakes his head, “You have trust issues Sherlock, really serious trust issues,” he murmurs, about to say more when…

“Captain…John…I…” Lestrade pauses by the door, seeing the two caught in a moment, the captain holding onto John’s wrist, “I’ll give you a moment,” he says quickly popping back out before Sherlock could skin him.

“That bastard…”Sherlock said, he let go of John’s wrist, “go, Mycroft was probably wondering why you took so long and sent Lestrade.”

“Um, yes. Shall I come back later for your tray?” John asks, his hand going to his wrist as he nervously wrings it.

“No thank you, I’ll bring it back to Mrs. Hudson myself, so goodnight,” Sherlock says watching as John leaves.

“Goodnight then,” John says smiling as he closes the door behind him.

Outside he sees Lestrade gathered with Mycroft and Donovan, they quickly shuffle apart when they see him, smiling, “What is it?” John asks, rather irritated that Lestrade has interrupted that moment with Sherlock.

“Nothing we were just talking about…Molly’s sickness,” Lestrade says with a big smile on his usually strict face.

“Take me to her,” John says as he follows them down into the galley, it has been converted into a sleeping place. Hammocks hang from the beams, neatly and in order and they take John right past them and into the cabins on the lower decks.

Entering the room, John sees Molly, lying on her back, face pale, blankets piled onto her. He immediately takes a seat down on the bed next to her, checking her pulse, he examines her thoroughly and finally tells them, “She’s got fever and caught a viral flu. We’ll need chamomile tea, Lestrade you prepare that it’s for her flu, I’ll check for Bayberry and Chrysanthemum. Donovan for now, keep a damp cloth by her bed stand. This thing isn’t going to spread but we’ll want to keep her quarantined here till she’s better.”

Headed back to his room, John checked the cupboard for the two herbs, he found chrysanthemum, quickly mixed it up into a drink and began to look for Bayberry, but he couldn’t find it at all. He heads down into the galley, “Mrs. Hudson,” he calls seeing her poke out her head from the kitchen.

“Oh John! I saved you some dinner.”

“Thank you, but I’m not here for that. Do you have Bayberry?” he asked, quickly eating the piece of meat, and cutting up the baked potato, scooping it into his mouth, watching as she checked for it.

“No. I don’t think we’d have that on board,” she says turning back then she looks behind him, smiling, “Sherlock, you brought back the tray on your own.”

John turns seeing the captain there, he nods, wiping his mouth clean of the juices from the meat and bits of potato, “Sherlock, we need to get Bayberry. Molly’s got a fever and viral flu and she needs some there isn’t any on board, think we can get some at Port Allen when we get there sometime tomorrow?”

Sherlock joined him, pulling out a stool and sitting beside John, “Port Allen doesn’t have many apothecary’s we could try. She can be cured right?”

John nodded, “Chrysanthemum and chamomile should lessen the effects for now, but Bayberry is essential for curing her.”

“Then we’ll make it an effort to find the Bayberry when we pull into the harbor tomorrow.”


	10. Bayberries & The Captain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys so here's the next chapter for this story. I'm really thinking of another long Sherlock story to write and i am having lots of ideas haha. Anyway, do read on and leave me some comments! Thanks!

John didn’t know really how in the world he had ended up paired with Sherlock alone as they wandered the town looking into the apothecary’s and asking for Bayberry.

“Aren’t you the captain? Shouldn’t you be on the ship?” John asked as he walked with Sherlock in the town, they were dressed as rich French gentlemen to blend in, the ship’s Jolly Roger had been taken down and the British flag flown up as they sailed into port.

“A captain can wander around whichever port he pleases can’t he?” Sherlock retorted as they passed a florists’ cart he smiled sweetly at the woman, greeting her in French and quickly he grabbed a rose from her cart and passed on, “Here you go,” he said smiling as he handed it to John.

“For me?” John asked, puzzled as he took the stalk, twirling it in his hand.

“For yesterday night. I’m really sorry about that,” Sherlock said as they neared the apothecary, the third one for the day.

“And you apologize in the form of roses now Sherlock?” John asks shaking his head as they entered the dimly lit shop.

“Good day monsieur, do you have Bayberry in store?” Sherlock asked.

The man behind the counter cocked his head, looking closely at them before he went into the back of the shop, rummaging about.

“Do you think he noticed?” John asked, afraid that their disguises might be seen through.

“I doubt it you look like you fit perfectly as a French gentleman.”

John felt his cheeks go hot and he looked away just as the man came back out. “Bayberry, how much would you like?” he asked, his voice heavily accented as he spoke in English.

“About a hundred and fifty grams of Bayberry root please,” John said, the calculations having already been worked out earlier. They stood in silence as the man measured out the amount and wrapped it into a small brown package.

Sherlock handed him the money and after he rang up the bill they left.

“Well that went well,” Sherlock commented as they boarded their ship, Mycroft and the rest of the crew was loading the ship with new stocks of food and wine as well.

“Now I need to mix up a concoction for her, it should have her well enough to walk about tomorrow,” John said, headed back to his room, when he noticed Sherlock following him, he raised a brow in question at him.

“I thought I might see how a doctor does his work,” Sherlock said making an excuse as he entered John’s cabin with him, watching as he set the rose on the desk, next to the journal, shrugging out of the coat he set the package down on the table with the medicinal tools.

Sherlock watched as John crushed the root up, he leaned against the table, looking at the doctor’s profile, he was so concentrated his hand reached for the canister of water and Sherlock took it for him, their hands touching at the same time, he could feel John’s hesitation of whether he should pull away but he didn’t instead he looked to him, their eyes meet and they stared into each other’s eyes, lost for that single moment.

John swallowed, the sound so loud in the sudden silence of the room, he felt Sherlock’s fingers tangle with his, holding his hand and his pulse skipped a beat as Sherlock leaned in closer, heated breath fanning his cheek. Flustered, John turned away. Pulling his hand away, his heart was racing as he reached to take the canister with his right hand instead, going back to the task at hand.

Sherlock, cleared his throat, letting his hand drop, leaning against the table, watching as John added water to the crushed root and added vanilla paste to it. He’d been so close to kissing him, had John not pulled away when he had, Sherlock was sure that he’d be kissing John right about now. _‘Are you that afraid of me?’_ he wanted to ask but he kept silent instead.

“I’m going to take this down to Molly, a-are you coming?” John asked as he quickly made his way to the door of his cabin, holding it open.

“Sure,” he said following John out the door his head in a whirl as stupid emotions and feelings clouded in him again, he didn’t know what to do and let alone express himself to John so he did the only thing he could, he built a wall and acted like it was nothing as they continued on.

In Molly’s room, Sherlock watched as John fed her the concoction with care. Wiping her mouth every time there was a spilling, then gently lifting her head again to help her to drink. Once she had taken in the whole bowl of it, John set about changing the cloth on her forehead, washing it in the basin nearby and wringing it out before he folded it and placed it on her forehead.

He saw her open her eyes, looking to John as she reached for his hand, John obliged and held Molly’s hand in his, Sherlock’s insides were raging at the small gesture. How is it that John who was his friend could easily hold Molly’s hand while he had not even wanted to hold his? He stepped forward, closer to John, hearing their conversation.

“You’ll be fine Molly, that was Bayberry and vanilla which will help you to sweat out your fever, it’s going to help you get better. You should be able to walk about by tomorrow you know?”

She smiled weakly, “Thank you, John.”

Sherlock couldn’t help but to smile, his dear John was just so kind. After they left the room, they headed in the direction of the main deck again, Lestrade was at the helm again, Donovan was at the capstan, instructing the crew to pull in the anchor as Mycroft instructed another section of the crew to haul in the gangplank.

“Come with me, we shall plan the route for the next island. You all deserve some fun,” Sherlock said, before he added, “And I can teach you how to use a pistol there as well. It’s my practice range.”

John followed willingly though he didn’t want to be alone with Sherlock in the same room together there was just something unspoken that was going on between them, something that unsettled him just a little and yet made him all warm and tingly.


	11. Mapping the Relationship

Sherlock set out the map, rolling it out on the great mahogany table, John coming around to look at it. He saw the doctor’s eyes sparkle as he looked at the map, his fingers, brushing over the markings that Sherlock had made before.

“So we’re in Hawaii right? Island of Kauai…” Sherlock heard John murmur as he trailed his finger over the map, finding the island. “And where are we headed to after that?” John asked, his eyes still fixed to the map, looking at the islands around Kauai.

Sherlock moved in behind John, pressing close as he stretched his hand out to point to a tiny dot of an island that he had marked out, he felt John stiffen when he pressed his body closer, “We’re going to this island, it’s my own little paradise,” Sherlock whispered, nestling his lips close to John’s ear, breathing in the other’s scent.  

“H-How l-long it is going to take?” John asked, stammering he was so nervous as he tried to ignore what Sherlock was doing. It was intoxicating, he could smell the captain’s scent, and he feels the warmth radiating from his body and he all but forgot to breathe.

“We could reach there by lunch tomorrow. Then I’ll show you how to use a pistol properly. Would you like that?” Sherlock asked, his hand reaching to turn John’s face to look to him, startled eyes looking to him.  

“Y-yes,” John answered, cheeks flushed, his eyes wanting to look away but then staying locked with his own.

“Good,” Sherlock whispered and he felt John shudder but he turned just a little so they stood face to face.

_‘Are we…’_ John thought feeling his eyelids droop shut as Sherlock leaned in to him, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heartbeat racing as he felt the gap between them close. Their lips land clumsily on each other, a schoolboy’s chaste kiss and John can taste Sherlock as the other parts his lips, welcoming him.

John feels Sherlock, reaching for him, pulling him closer, his stomach trembles. He’s never been kissed by a man before, never in his life and this feeling with Sherlock is so wonderful, the feel of the captain’s strong arms wrapped around him. Pleasure spreads through his body like a drop of ink spreads through water, it’s languid warmth making him press up to Sherlock for more, tangle his hands in the dark locks as he feels Sherlock’s tongue invade his mouth.

Sherlock is surprised at the strength of his desire and the speed at which it blooms within him shocks him. He doesn’t know that he’s capable of such strong emotions and now, with John he’s feeling it the sweet warmth of love, the heady scent of the other man making him aroused, he has his hands moving to John’s buttocks, cupping them and then pulling him hard against him he hears John’s gasp and then the soft moan and Sherlock smirks against his lips. _‘You so like this,’_ he thought.

Lestrade enters at that moment seeing the captain and John locked in a heated embrace, “Captain…I…” he begins then stops in his tracks.

Sherlock growls, angered that the moment as been destroyed, his quick reflexes have him hurtling a dagger at Lestrade, it lands at the man’s feet, hilt still wobbling.

“Knock Lestrade! I’ve told you before!” he growls, watching as the other scrambles back out of his cabin.

John smiles a little as he pulls away, shy. He avoids looking at Sherlock who is scowling away now. “You’re angry about that?” John asked.

“Yes. I hate it when people don’t knock. I wish he hadn’t even come in,” Sherlock said, crossing his arms over his chest.

John stifled a giggle he thought it was cute that Sherlock would be angry over such a matter, covering it up with a smile, “We’ll always have next time Sherlock,” he said, knowing that his words held promise and he saw Sherlock’s eyes light up at those words.

Sherlock smirked, “You promise. Don’t you dare go back on your word. Lestrade!” he called the first mate back in. “Head for Paradise islands, going north from here we should make it by tomorrow afternoon, then we can dock there for a day or so. It might do good for Molly as well.”

Lestrade nodded, looking between the two of them before he headed out, John followed suit, saying goodbye to Sherlock before he closed the door to his cabin. He cannot believe he had kissed the man and enjoyed it and let alone promised him a next time!

Once they are on the main deck, Lestrade smirks, turning to him, “So you and the captain…” he trails off making a vulgar sign.

“No no no it isn’t like that! We’re not…whatever it is,” John gestures not wanting to make the sign. Lestrade does it for him, making the sign again, “We’re not like that,” John says, shaking his head.

“It’s okay if you are you know, I mean I’m not prying and all…just thought maybe…I don’t know…you and him…” Lestrade grinned making the vulgar sign again this time complete with suggestive sounds.

“Stop that!” John growled, pushing Lestrade away from him, his cheeks heated from the teasing, “I’ll tell him you know and he’ll punish you,” John said.

“I don’t think he will! I’m the first mate he needs me,” Lestrade joked as they headed their separate ways back to their quarters.

-

The first mate goes down into the galley, it’s his break time and with the news he’s just gotten he is elated, he finds Mrs. Hudson, Donovan and Mycroft there, just the people he was looking for.

“Guess what guys!” he says smirking, “You all owe me five doubloons each.”

“What? Since when? Have they even done anything?” Donovan asked making a space on the bench beside her for Lestrade to sit.

“I went in to captain’s office just now and lo and behold there I see them hands all over each other and all,” Lestrade said mimicking the actions.

“Then?” Mycroft asked.

“He threw a dagger at me, landed right at my feet and he told me to knock the next time I come in.”

Mrs. Hudson was smiling to herself when she heard this, _‘Finally,’_ she thought.

-

Back in Port Allen in the harbor of Kauai island, a man made his way into an apothecary.

“So you saw the man then? John Watson? You saw him come into your shop?” he asked, he was dressed in rich clothes, a petite woman clung onto his arm.

“And he was with the pirate king wasn’t he? Tall fellow, black curly hair?” the woman asked.

The man behind the counter gulped, nodding.

“Do you know where they went? What they wanted?” the man asked.

“They came for a hundred and fifty grams of Bayberry. Paid their dues and left, sir. I don’t know where they went to after that,” the shopkeeper said.

The man scoffed, tossing a bag of money onto the counter as he and the woman left, “So he’s given us the right information. The pirate captain and John Watson…what a lovely pair they would make, hanging on the gallows.”


	12. Pistols & Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with another chapter! It's time Sherlock did some gun fights with John. So here we go! Read on and do leave me some comments!

By afternoon the _Bel Ange_ is docked in the waters around the cove of this ‘Paradise Island’. John is marveling at the lush greenery as they stand on deck. Sherlock smiles seeing John’s face, he goes to stand beside him, “Do you like it? My island?” Sherlock asks to which John nods.

“It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!” John whispers, truly it is because he’s never sailed before and he never knew that forests could be that green and the waters around that blue. It was like a gem in the sea.

“Shall we get going then?” Sherlock asked taking out his pistols, handing one to John.

“What? What, now?” John asked.

“Yes now. If not now then when?” Sherlock asked making his way down the gangplank.

“Bossy…” John muttered as he followed down the gangplank after Sherlock.

Sherlock led the way into the forest, with John following behind until they reached a forest clearing. There, Sherlock stopped turning to John, “Here’s my shooting range,” he said smiling, indicating the trees in the distance, painted on them were little human figures with their vital organs marked out as target practice.

“Not bad,” John said going to touch the barks of the trees that were peppered with bullet holes, all clustered around the vital organs.

“Well show me what you can do then,” Sherlock said stepping out of the way to let John take his shot. He watched as the doctor took aim, holding the pistol with two hands. He pulled the trigger the shot, scaring birds out of their trees. Sherlock shook his head, the bullet hadn’t come close to anything at all.

“You shoot to kill John,” Sherlock said walking back to where John stood. He re-positioned John, turning him so that he stood sideways to the target, his hands brushing against John’s shoulder, neck and his waist, “You need to stand like this, you understand?” Sherlock asked to which John made a small nod of his head.

“Next you need to relax,” Sherlock said, taking hold of John’s hand that was rigid on the pistol, “relax your hold John, and lean back,” he said, letting his other hand grab John’s waist and pull him back against his chest, holding him there, “Good. Now when you’re ready, pull the trigger,” he whispered in John’s ear, keeping his grip around John’s waist.

John could barely think with Sherlock this close to him but he tried to block it out, to shut out the images of hands smooth and strong reaching to touch his naked skin. He knows who it is that these hands belong to, but he cannot yet hope to say that name. He fires and the birds fly again and John hears Sherlock’s voice in his ear, “Very good, you killed him. Now you try on your own.”

John was still a little shaken from the close proximity of Sherlock and he could still feel the other’s hold around him, he shot the next round remembering to relax, taking out the next target. Sherlock stood there, watching as he did so and his gaze unnerved him.

The pirate captain stood, leaning against a tree, hands folded across his chest as he watched John’s progress with shooting. His mind going back to the day before, he wants to kiss John again, just to confirm the feelings in his chest and the enthusiasm in John’s lips as the other man had pressed up to him.

-

“Alright, I think that’s enough for the day,” Sherlock says as he goes over to John now, taking the pistol from him and slotting it into the belt at his waist.

The light in the forest is dimming signaling the end of the day, from the beach, there comes the sounds of singing and the smell of food.

“Mrs. Hudson must have already started cooking, sadly she didn’t wait for the most important person,” Sherlock comments, jokingly as he walks on ahead John following right behind. As the two come out of the shrubbery and head out onto the beach, John notices Lestrade watching them as he whispers to Donovan about it. He rolls his eyes, _‘people and gossip’_ he thinks as he takes his seat beside Sherlock at the fire.

Molly, John sees is much better as she sits around the fire with them. He is glad that the medicine has worked and they don’t have to lose a member of the crew. Other groups are gathered along the stretch of the beach and they are all sharing in Mrs. Hudson’s food. The sun has already set and the moon is out, high in the sky, a crescent today. The stars accompany it, shining in the night sky like little twinkling diamonds.

“Walk with me?” Sherlock turns to him now, asking him.

John raises a brow as he finishes the stew Mrs. Hudson has cooked.

“Where to?” John asked as he stood, dusting off his pants.

Sherlock shrugged, “Around here,” he says, turning away from the group, he just wants to walk with John and maybe, just maybe test out his little theory that he had come up with that afternoon.

John followed after Sherlock, his bare feet feeling the warm sand beneath his toes as he walked along. They are headed in the direction away from the other’s and soon the only sounds that can be heard are the waves rolling in to the shore, crashing onto the beach before pulling back out. John realizes that Sherlock has slowed down, now matching his pace, walking side by side on the sand, just as the waves roll in and out of the shore.

“So…” Sherlock asked as he walked on beside John, he doesn’t know what to say to start a conversation, “What was your life like before here? You had a sister?” Sherlock asked.

John somehow thought it alright to talk to Sherlock about this, “Well, I used to live in London, my father was a gambler…he died before he could pay off his debts I tell you it amounted to a whole lot. My mother then tried to pay it off, she worked hard every day to pay off the debts and to pay for me and my sister’s schooling…” John trailed off, his mind wandering to years back, when he was but a boy, “Then my sister Harry gave up her chance at studying just for me, she and mom worked hard to put me through medical school,” John said and he stopped there, he didn’t want to tell more than that.

“And?” Sherlock prompted.

John looked at him sideways, “And my mother died at work one day. My sister got killed. I left London becoming a stowaway on the ship. Nearly died and then I found you…” he says, looking away again, his feelings stirring for the man once more. _‘you brought a smile to my face again…and I think I like you Sherlock…’_ he thought as they walked.

Sherlock reached for John’s hand that was at his side now, letting their fingers tangle together, holding hands as they continued to walk along the beach. John didn’t pull away, instead his fingers, held fast to Sherlock’s and the captain smiled. “You came as a surprise to my ship as well,” Sherlock says his thumb stroking over the back of John’s hand. “I wasn’t expecting doctors anytime soon. In fact we were supposed to go and find one at the next port but I guessed you saved me that trouble,” he joked, smiling as he felt John bump in to him at that.

Sherlock felt playful for some reason at that, as though a challenge had been thrown to him and he bumped John back, a little forcefully. John returned it and they went at it back and forth until John missed his step, falling into the water. With his grip still on Sherlock’s hand he pulled the other down into the waters.

The captain fell, laughing into the waves with John, he rolled over to pin John there, the waves breaking over the both of them, soaking them. John’s golden blonde hair was splayed on the sand, damp and glistening in the moonlight and Sherlock was tempted to run his fingers through it.

John’s laughter caught in his throat now as Sherlock leaned over him, the man’s black hair dripping water down his face as he looked at him, he felt Sherlock’s long fingers tangle in his hair, pushing it back from his face. His heart skipped a beat at the little touch and he looked into his eyes. Sherlock had a smile on his lips, so pure so open and John gulped at the intensity of the moment. He didn’t want to guess what would happen next.

With caution, Sherlock closed his eyes, leaning in to press his lips to John’s soft ones, letting the man beneath him, adjust. He felt John part his lips to let him in and Sherlock, slipped his tongue into John’s mouth, mapping out the wet cavern, saving it to his memory. He felt John tremble beneath him as the water came in once more, the spray once again wetting them, he smirked into the kiss. He’d never kissed someone on the beach like this, he had to say he liked it. Especially with John.

John moaned softly into the kiss as he felt Sherlock’s hand press against his chest through the wet material of his shirt. Those long fingers going to twirl around his peaking nipples, turning them erect and visible against the thin material of the shirt he wore. He balked feeling Sherlock grinding his hips into his and John’s hands went to Sherlock’s stopping the other from more of his explorations, not yet. He didn’t want it yet. What if Sherlock was only playing him?

“Sherlock…” he gasped, pulling away, his lips swollen. He saw understanding in the captain’s eyes and hurt. No…no, John hadn’t meant to fully reject him like this. “Sherlock, wait,” John said grasping onto the other’s slender wrist as he stood, ready to walk off, he felt a tremble go through the captain’s hand.

“I have business to take care of,” Sherlock said his voice cold, void of emotion before he shook of his hand and walked off, his long legs striding away quickly, putting distance between them.

“Sherlock…” John sighed, closing his eyes a deep ache . How could he be so stupid?


	13. I Love John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we ended off with a sad note last time, this chapter begins also on a rather sad note, but of course things get better! Do leave me some comments to let me know what you think after you've read the story!

Sherlock heads back quickly to his room. Locking himself in. He’d seen Lestrade’s eyes following him. He knew Lestrade’s questions that ran through his head, _‘Where’s John?’_ something along those lines. Well John is not here. John will not be here, because John doesn’t want him. Doesn’t want him like he thought he had. Well it’s only right. He is after all the ship’s captain, not any captain, he is the Pirate King.

The most dangerous and wanted criminal, Sherlock is happy that John doesn’t want to get close to him. Or so he lies to himself as he busies himself, taking a quick hot shower and then going to his charts. With tonight’s party, they would need to stock up on food and drink. Also, Irene’s reminder on the Company left him with little choice but to find a safe port without the risk of the East India Company finding him.

He thought about it and decided it would be best if they headed for the Marshall islands, stopping at the port on Mili Atol island where they could restock. It would take about four to five days to reach there and then they would be able to set off once more. This time for Queensland, Australia, maybe they could take down another ship or two as well along the way.

But Sherlock got bored of his planning pretty quickly, and found himself pacing the length of his room. He walked towards the double doors that led out onto the large balcony that over looked the side of the ship. He could still hear the laughter from the crew on the beach, along with the sound of the waves slapping against the sides of the ship. He was once more alone, he knew he shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t have kissed John again or let alone touch the other.

He hadn’t remembered a time when he had felt so close to another person such a John. In fact John had been the one and only person that he had ever gone so far with, ever wanted so much in his life such that he would kiss him and…

“Stop this. It’s over,” he growled angry at himself as he roughly ran a hand through his hair, messing the damp curls up. _‘You’ll get over this, you’ll get over John,’_ he thought to himself as he went back into his cabin, flopping down in his bed.

-

In the next few days that followed, he stayed in his cabin, having Molly to bring him food. Lestrade entered from time to time to tell him about their course and confirm with him the details of their route. At times, Sherlock would see John, stopping just outside his door when it opened, John would be talking to someone and Sherlock’s heart would ache. It would seem that John was getting on fine without him and Sherlock’s earlier theory of him getting over John didn’t seem to be proving itself any time soon.

It was one of the dinners that Lestrade came in to call him out of his den.

“Come on Sherlock, you must have been cooped up in here for so long that you’re bored of your own company,” Lestrade chided him.

“I enjoy being alone for your information, alone protects me…” Sherlock said but he got up from his seat anyway.

“It didn’t look like it…” Lestrade trailed off, seeing Sherlock glare at him.

Sherlock didn’t say a word more as they headed down into the galley. The tables were filled as usual with men and their raucous laughter. Sherlock spotted John in the kitchen, preparing food with Mrs. Hudson and Molly, maybe he’d get a chance to see him when he came out to serve them food. But as the time drew on he saw John only serving the other tables never once looking in his direction.

“Why don’t you go talk to him Sherlock?” Lestrade said to him over dinner.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sherlock said digging into his food.

“You know exactly what I mean. He’s hurting too you know and you’re being childish staying in your room all day,” Lestrade said guzzling down his first mug of beer.

“It’s not childish and I can’t help it. I’m busy,” Sherlock said, making another excuse as he finished off the piece of grilled fish. He wiped his mouth on his napkin before he stood, “There I came for dinner, now I have to go back, I have more work to do,” he said turning to go.

But it was as if fate would force him to see John that he crashed back into the other, his fear at meeting the other only cause him to struggle more as he fell. He landed with John, there, pinned beneath him once more, the man’s eyes squeezed shut. Sherlock heard as silence fell in the galley now and John looked up at him, those blue eyes scorching his soul once more. He quickly righted himself, clearing up the mess, he handed it back to John who stood in silence, their hands brushing as Sherlock handed him the tray.

_‘I’m sorry…’_ was what came into his mind instead he told him, “Be more careful next time,” before he turned and left the galley.

His feet took him quickly up the stairs of the galley, the cool night breeze making him calm down. Sherlock didn’t know why he’d gone and said that. It would only hurt John more he knew and yet…why had he said it? Sherlock already knew denying his feelings wasn’t going to work, then again he thought of what would happen if the East India Company caught him and killed him, wouldn’t that leave John even more heartbroken…if the other man did love him, that is.

He took to the helm now, relieving the man there of his duty. Sherlock kept his hand on the wheel, feeling the ship’s movement as she ploughed through the waters. His eyes scanned the horizon that night and theirs was the only ship in these lanes tonight. The waters were dark, it looked very much like the ship had been sucked into a black hole.

“Sherlock?” he looked to where the sound was coming from and there he saw John.

His whole being froze when he saw the other man and watched as he slowly made his way up to the helm.

“You shouldn’t be here this place is off limits to you,” Sherlock said when John came to stand beside him.

“I’m the ship’s doctor, why can’t I be here?” John asked, his retort once more sparking a flame in Sherlock, he hadn’t talked to John for about three days already and he didn’t want to start now, he knew the dangers of that, his attraction was too much to control.

“You don’t know how to steer the ship, you’re a doctor,” Sherlock replied coolly.

“Then you can teach me, can’t you Sherlock?” John came to stand in his line of view now, forcing him to look at the slightly shorter man.

“Stand here,” Sherlock said, making space for John as he moved back. He felt John take the place before him and Sherlock tried hard to ensure minimal body contact with the other.

“Hold onto the wheel about eleven and two,” he said moving his hand to let John’s take his place, but it seemed the other wanted this now, and he put his hands over Sherlock’s now as he held the wheel. It was his fault, John Watson had gone and started this. He moved in closer to John and surprisingly he felt John pressing back into him as well his movement almost desperate and so obviously deliberate that it made Sherlock wonder if John was just doing this as an act of kindness.

“Steady,” he whispered into John’s ear, “Keep your eye on the horizon and a steady hand on the wheel, if you do that, you should be fine,” he said, inhaling John’s scent before he pulled his hands out from under John’s and then took his leave, going back to the loneliness of his cabin.

Sherlock was sure of it now. So sure of it, of his affections for John Watson, he was in love with that man…so far gone that he knew there was no turning back.

_‘I love him…I love John…’_


	14. Is It Really Love?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so in the midst of all this dreary sadness let's have a little bit of action! A raid! Please do leave a comment to tell me what you think about the story so far! Also thank you to all of you that have left kudos on my work! :)

Even though Sherlock had come to the realization of his affections for John, he still wanted to deny himself that fact. Yes, he was that stubborn and then again, he liked to think that he was only thinking for John’s good. If John and him did fall in love…deeply in love…then something bad might happen what with him being the Pirate King and all. He sighed, looking through the different pieces of tiny rectangular parchments that contained information on cargo ships passing in this area.

So far so good, no one on his crew had even spoken a word to John of his Pirate King position and he hoped it stayed that way. It probably might, since the crew would think with them being so close together previously…Sherlock would have told him that. But he hadn’t. They were wrong. He had withheld his secret.

As his eyes scanned the parchments he came across one that intrigued him, it was a merchant ship the _Nightlark_ and it was on its return voyage back to England. It just so happened that they had taken a detour and as Sherlock calculated on the map, they would be crossing paths sometime around noon if all was correct and the ship had left about a good five days ago.

A raid would definitely do his senses good. Maybe so much as to make him not love John. _‘Not happening…’_ came the thought in his head. He decided against that. Taking the information, he exited his cabin, something he hadn’t done in another long while.

“Captain!” Lestrade greeted him from the helm, a hint of some sort of hope on his face. The man never thought much nowadays but to try to get Sherlock on deck and to make him at least have some small interaction with John.

Sherlock climbed the five steps up to the helm and handed the parchment to Lestrade, “Think she’d be carrying navy men?” Sherlock asked as he surveyed the deck his eyes scanning through the faces and looking for just one.

“Beats me. You never know what the Company is thinking,” Lestrade offered as he caught his captain’s line of sight, resting on the blonde haired doctor who was near the stern cleaning the swords, “You guys still haven’t made up?” he asked indicating John.

Sherlock glared at him, “That’s none of your business Greg. See to it that we drop anchor about another 50 nautical miles up. Then get Mycroft and the rest to ready the equipment. We want to raid that ship clean of her supplies. If there are navy men, I want none of them to survive. Understood?”

“Aye captain,” Lestrade murmured as he followed Sherlock’s instructions watching as Sherlock went back into his cabin, he also noticed how John’s eyes watched achingly as the captain once more holed himself up in his room. Lestrade shook his head, there wasn’t any convincing the captain…he wouldn’t listen he was too stubborn. So he decided to let nature take its course.

It was just about after noon now and the crew hadn’t so much as smelt lunch. Everyone was busy getting ready for the raid and John was now priming his pistol and his cutlass. He guessed Sherlock must’ve changed their plans judging from what he’d told Lestrade at the helm…The captain hadn’t so much as looked at him in the last two days since what had happened at the wheel the other night and John was beginning to lose hope that they would ever have a chance of getting back together.

_‘Who said you needed to get back together? You’re on the run from the Company, if you take his treasure you’d be able to pay back your whole lifetime of debt and get off scot free with your life.’_

No. He’d long since given up that thought, because he was bound to this crew and taking the treasure meant that he would leave the whole crew penniless and he didn’t want them to suffer. He’d met so many nice people who had helped him to try to ignore the ache in his heart but every time he was alone, there was nothing he could do to stop the painful thoughts. John slot his pistol in place his cutlass at the ready as he headed on deck.

As he looked out to the ocean, he saw just a little dot on the horizon to the west of them on the portside cannons. John gulped, this would be his first ever real battle. He wasn’t sure if he could do this. From up above he heard Donovan’s warning.

“ _Nightlark_ spotted on the west, portside captain!” she called down to the deck.

“Ready the cannons. Stand at arms and wait for them to approach,” Sherlock said as the merchant ship slowly sailed into view.

Right now they were in disguise, the ship held the British East Company flag, true enough as Sherlock had expected the _Nightlark_ rang it’s bell signaling that they were from the same side.

“Mycroft, ring the bell back to them,” he said, keeping his eyes on the merchant ship that came closer. He noticed that the ship as he had expected carried a crew of soldiers protecting the handful of businessmen.

“Looks like they came well prepared,” Lestrade said as he joined Sherlock at the rail on the portside.

“We’ll see,” Sherlock muttered as the other ship docked about a few feet away in the water from them that’s when Sherlock knew something was wrong, just behind the _Nightlark_ there was a patch of sky that moved. Well, of course the sky moved, the earth rotated! But this was different…it was coming towards them. Camouflage sails!

“The shit is he thinking coming here?” Sherlock growled as he stepped closer to the rails, his eyes confirming the rough outline of a ship. Someone was here to interrupt with his negotiations with the captain of the _Nightlark_.

“Greetings gentlemen!” the merchant from the _Nightlark_ called out to them, then just before there was more, the camouflage from the ship lifted and a cannon was fired, hitting right into the merchant ship.

“Lestrade line her up to the starboard side! Mycroft get the troop ready! Take care of the loot first you understand? Don’t make any contact with the pirates of the _Mauvais Ange_ ,’ Sherlock said as they pulled into position, on the other side of the _Nightlark_ Jim’s ship docked to it, lowering her battle plank that anchored the two ships together.

Jim jumped aboard the merchant ship smirking as the soldiers began to fire, he deflected the bullets easily, his sword made of a special metal. With a swing of his hand he easily cut down the soldiers in his path. Right across on the other side of the ship, he spotted just who he was looking for, Sherlock. Jim waltzed right across the deck taking the other by surprise as he held his sword to the man, “Hello Sherlylocks,” he cooed as their swords clash, Sherlock having very quick reflexes.

“Jim,” Sherlock acknowledges as he pushes the other away from him, his sword blocking Jim’s blow. It seems his take on no aggressiveness wasn’t going to be carried out seeing as the soldiers were already fighting off both crews.

“How long has it been since we crossed blades hmm?” Jim purred as he easily deflected Sherlock’s blow, bringing another two quick slashes down to which Sherlock easily dodged.

“Why the hell are you here, have you been following me?” Sherlock asked, nicking Jim right across his cheek, the crimson blood flowing down. 

“Why will I want to follow you Sherlylocks?” Jim asked holding his hand up for a moment now defensively as he stood, flicking his tongue out to lick the dripping blood before he jumped back into their little game, thrusting his sword right where Sherlock had been just seconds prior.

“If you’re not following me then why are you here? You can’t just have popped out from the sky!” Sherlock growled, as he motioned Jim to duck, taking out the Company soldier that was behind him, killing the soldier in one slice.

“Oh but I did. Pop out of the sky that is,” Jim said with a wry smile, returning the favor of Sherlock’s save as he flung his dagger to another soldier that was coming up on Sherlock, “I’m helping you clean your trail,” Jim murmured as he pinned Sherlock back against the railing their eyes meeting in a battle of staring.

“Irene said you wanted to warn me about the Company,” Sherlock said as he let himself relax, feeling Jim press himself up against him, fingers winding around his arm, “why didn’t you do it yourself?”

Jim scoffed, “I didn’t want to see you then. Not that I want to see you now,” Jim said looking away from Sherlock’s glare for the moment, “it’s the least I can do…keeping the Company off your back…”Jim said trailing off as he loosened his grip on Sherlock’s arm.

“Tell me you feel guilty for leaving me,” Sherlock scoffed shaking Jim off as he swiped his sword in an arc now, missing Jim as the other ducked once more and Sherlock took out another two officers.

“I don’t feel guilt. I felt responsibility Sherlock…what I did…I didn’t think, I didn’t know…” Jim said _‘It was love…’_ he thought.

John finds himself surrounded in seconds by officers of the Company, their swords drawn. He could fend off one or two but not five at once. Where was everyone when he needed them? He swung his sword at the nearest officer, feeling the force as the blade struck right through the man’s arm, a sick dull thud heard as the arm dropped to the floor, the man following suit as he howled in pain.

From where he was John could clearly see what was going on between Sherlock and Jim and he didn’t so much as like it one bit. Jim was too close to the other man, his captain, his Sherlock. No…he wasn’t his not now that he’d rejected him. John’s hand lifted the pistol to fire but the soldier was quicker knocking the pistol right from his hand sending it clattering to the floor. He couldn’t call for help as they closed in around him, the rest of them were busy either holding off their own battles or trying to get the loot. As he was pushed back into the corner John began to fear for his life.

“Don’t you want to save your dear little Johnny boy?” Jim asked as Sherlock cornered him now, his back against the wall of the cabin. That got Sherlock’s attention, the man turning away from him to look to where John was. In that single second Jim pushed Sherlock back, his sword arcing out and nicking Sherlock on the cheek, a scratch for a scratch. Jim smirked as he watched Sherlock cut through the soldiers going to save John, shaking his head, “Still you say you don’t care…” he murmured lifting his pistol from its holster as he fired off two rounds in Sherlock’s direction, taking out the two oncoming soldiers that would have dealt Sherlock a blow.

“You can’t have him,” Jim whispered, soft enough that only the wind could hear, the pistol still smoking in his hand. He owed Sherlock this much, after all he’d been the one to leave Sherlock on his own with Mycroft with no ship, no crew and not a penny to his name. He didn’t regret that though…leaving Sherlock, yet that didn’t mean that Jim had stopped loving him.

“Come Sebastian, let’s go,” Jim said turning as he headed back in the direction of his ship, a tall blonde man with a scar down his eye following behind him obediently. If anyone actually bothered to look in the midst of the chaos of battle, they would know that aboard the _Mauvais Ange_ , a crew member was missing. 


	15. Heavy Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Here's the next chapter you guys! Thanks for all the support that i have received so far! Do check out my other Johnlock AU, Amour dans la glace if you fancy vamp!Sherlock :) Anyway continue reading and do leave me some nice comments! :)

Sherlock dashed across the deck of the merchant ship and drove his sword through the soldier that had John cornered now as he caught a trembling John in his arms, he pulled the other close, holding onto him as he sliced at the another two soldiers, sending them tumbling dead onto the decks. Turn his back for a minute and this is what happens.

He sets John down once more when he was sure that the other is alright, “Looks like you don’t work well with close range combat…” he muttered, spotting John’s pistol right at the base of the mast. He grabbed it, handing it to the doctor now, their fingers brushing as the pistol exchanged hands. Sherlock fought hard to treat it as nothing and he watched as John stuffed the pistol back into its holster muttering a soft word of thanks. John was still shaking from his close encounter with death and Sherlock himself was still tensed from the battle.

“Gather up the spoils,” Sherlock said to the rest of them, the deck littered with the lifeless corpses of the Company soldiers, “when you’re done, burn the ship. And you, doctor,” he said looking to John now, “take care of the casualties,” he said then he turned his back on the other, headed back to the ship. He was afraid to say more.

His heart was still pounding fast from the rush he’d felt when he’d heard John was in danger, he’d thought that he might be too late to save John and he would blame himself for the rest of his life for John’s death. But John was fine now and Sherlock’s love for him, his protectiveness of the man he loved only grew and he knew that he would need to keep his distance all the more.

John stood on the deck of the other ship in the midst of the dying chaos, the setting sun bathing the deck in an orange glow as he watched as Sherlock walked off back to the _Bel Ange_ and he wanted to tell him that he would treat him first, even if it was just that small cut on his cheek. But he didn’t think that Sherlock would appreciate that gesture at least not now. Not until he could win back his love. Pushing those depressing thoughts away, John joined Mycroft and the rest of the men as they loaded the spoils onto the _Bel Ange_.

It was close to dinner time now, the candles lit on deck, they were going to have a feast in honor of their raid and right now, John was wrapping the bandage around Lestrade’s upper arm as the man sat in his room. He was almost done when the other stopped him, “Have you gone to check on Sherlock yet?” he asked.

John kept silent, shaking his head now as he lifted Lestrade’s arm to continue bandaging him. “He just called me doctor. He doesn’t even want to use my name…”

“Hey, don’t sweat it John, I’m sure he’ll come around to his senses. That man can be stubborn but he’ll come around. Besides he saved you, you know? That counts for something doesn’t it?” Lestrade said wiggling a brow.

“He did it out of responsibility as a captain,” John said rolling his eyes as he purposely made the bandage too tight making Lestrade wince, “besides, this ship would need a doctor to tend to all of you and if I’d died back there…well…you’d all be dying from blood loss,” John murmured as he pinned the bandage neatly in place now.

“Coming to dinner?” Lestrade asked as he stood now watching John packing up the bandages, rolling them neatly as he stored them back in the cupboard, “They’re going to be celebrating tonight and, splitting of the spoils. You’re going to want to be there.”

“I don’t know…” John murmured.

“Well I’ve decided for you, you’re coming. Let’s go,” Lestrade said dragging the doctor out of his cabin and right down into the galley. The tables were set now so that the loot was displayed all in the front of the room and the pirates were gathered around looking at the spoils. It seemed that they were the last few to join and John caught Sherlock looking straight at them.

“You’re early, Lestrade, doctor,” Sherlock said, not liking one bit how Lestrade gripped John at the wrist. They’d taken way too long to come down to the galley.

“Ignore that,” Lestrade whispered to John as they waited in line to take a share of the spoils.

When it came to John’s turn, he stared down at the pile of what was left there was nothing there that he would need. Nothing that would be expensive enough to pay off his debt to the Company and nothing of use to him, that’s when Sherlock cleared his throat. John looked to him raising a brow in question.

“I saved this for you,” Sherlock said holding out a black casing to him. John looked from him to the casing in his outstretched hand. Should he take it?

“I…don’t need it,” John muttered softly so that only Sherlock could hear.

“You told me to pay you in pen and ink. I’m only keeping my end of the contract. This is another quill. You can tell me when you run out of ink,” Sherlock said, holding the black velvet casing to him still. This time John took it with a small nod of his head and another whispered, “Thanks,” looking to Sherlock’s face the cut on his cheek healing already, before he went back to his seat beside Lestrade.

“Saved you a gift huh. He’s coming back to you in no time,” Lestrade teased John as Molly served their food.

“Maybe…maybe not,” John murmured as he quickly ate his dinner then excused himself from the galley. He headed back to his room, laying down on his bed as he opened up the black velvet casing. This time the quill inside had a bright pink feather with a silver tip which John guessed had to be made from real silver not a fake sort of material that could pass off as silver. The pink feather was very peculiar and John couldn’t name exactly what animal he had seen it on before. If only Sherlock were here to tell him what bird it was.

John sighed, setting the quill back in to the casing. It made him sad to think about Sherlock like this. He missed the man’s witty remarks and his knowledge on almost every subject that you could imagine. He also missed the feel of Sherlock’s hand…

_‘What the hell am I thinking…’_ he thought shaking his head, John set the velvet casing down on the desk next to the first quill that he’d received from Sherlock before he got ready to go to bed, his heart heavy in his chest as he fell asleep to the sound of the ocean waves. 


	16. I Think I Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello again guys and Happy April Fools! Here we have a naughty John trying to pleasure himself hahaha, he really misses Sherlock though. Well things get better from here on out, read on to find out! Do leave me a little review after you've read the chapter! Thanks guys!

The sound of a bell ringing penetrates the haze of John's dreams and he awakens to the morning sun warming his room. He is lying in bed, topless, the night before had been so hot that he had gone to sleep just in his pants, even then the cabin was still stuffy with the windows having been closed. John closed his eyes once more grasping onto the tendrils of the dream that he had had about Sherlock. Ever since that night at the wheel they hadn't had any more contact with one another.

He sits up in bed now, his back leaning against the wall of the cabin. John can remember it the kiss they had shared on the beach so long ago, how Sherlock's hand had touched him and awakened his body. Slowly as John thought more, his hand crept to the place between his thighs, resting there, his breath hitched as his hand cupped his growing erection. There wasn't shame in this thing that he had begun to do almost every morning now, instead he felt the pleasure that came with it and his affection towards the thoughts that came with it, thoughts that contained Sherlock.

John found himself pulling off his pants just slightly to release his cock, it stood to attention, resting back against his stomach. John closed his eyes and shuddering he grabbed his own heated length in his hand and began to stroke himself, his hand moving up and down his length, hips thrusting into his hand, the pace slowly building as John yearned for more.

He slid down the bed, gripping his pillow to him as he moaned into it, he imagined that the hand that stroked him had long slender fingers, skilled in what they did, they would be smooth as they slid over his now slick cock, stroking him to completion. Blue grey eyes would bore into his soul, his voice would whisper into his ear, 'Come for me John,' he would say and John would give in to that, his imagination as he came over his torso, his hand still stroking as it milked him dry of his release.

Then he would lie there, for a moment or two before he neatened up and hurried to take a shower as the rest of the crew slowly began to awaken. As he headed to the shower today however he caught sight of Sherlock at the helm, even across that distance, the captain's gaze still got to him and it seemed to be able to read his thoughts as though the captain himself knew what had happened that morning in the privacy of his own cabin. John quickly looked away and hurried down past the galley to the shower stalls as he took his shower.

Sherlock watched as the crew emptied off the ship at the port of Mili Atol leaving him and only a handful of others to man the ship in the docks. Even John had gone with them, most likely because he didn't want to be left with Sherlock. Well the captain had other plans today, he'd made up his mind about the things between John and him, he would tell him how he feels and then if John were to reject him, things would be alright. Yes. Things will be alright.

John had had just about enough of spending his time with the crew…they didn't intrigue him like Sherlock did and he felt sort of awkward when he was with them. It had come to his mind that maybe he did like Sherlock as more than just a friend. Lovers? Could that be said of them? They had kissed, more than once and they'd held hands and John did wake up with an erection to dreams of Sherlock.

He shook his head, but what if he was too late now? Lestrade handed him another bag to carry and John decided maybe this was it, he would head back to the ship and talk it out with Sherlock.

"Hey, um guys?" he called, peeking out from behind the bags, "I think I'd like to go back to the ship first, you know put these things away and all first and stuff?" John said.

"Sure thing, we'll be back late anyway so, go on," Lestrade says to him, turning him back around in the direction of the ship.

John walked back thinking of the things that he'd say to Sherlock in his mind, his imagination also conjured up all sorts of things, Sherlock's reactions to each of his words and the captain's reply. He made his way up the gangplank, the deck empty of men, he headed down into the galley setting the things down on the counter top. Then gathering his wits he headed for Sherlock's cabin.

He's standing right outside the double doors now, his hand poised to knock then he decides against it, pushing the door open he lets himself into the captain's cabin. The captain isn't at his desk and so John was about to head out when he heard a voice call to him, "John?" it said and John saw that behind the glass beaded curtain that led into Sherlock's room, the man himself sat there, looking right at him.

He took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat as he pushed aside the glass beaded curtain and stood in Sherlock's room. It smelt just like the captain himself and John was slowly losing but he brought himself back, "Sherlock we need to clear some things up. That kiss on the beach…" John paused unable to go on so the captain took over from there.

"Look I'm sorry that I did so…but I've been thinking John and I swear I've not stopped thinking about this matter at all…I think…that I like it. I liked all of it. I like you John and not just as a friend, as more than friends…you know?" Sherlock said only pausing now and he looked at John's face, the man's mouth was hanging open and he seemed to be in shock. Oh no…had he said something wrong again?

John just stared not believing his ears his heart skipping a beat at those words. Sherlock liked him as more than friends. More than just friends! That made them what? Lovers! He blushed, turning away, "I wanted to tell you Sherlock…that when I pushed you away on the beach…"

"I know. I know you didn't like it," Sherlock said quickly barreling him down.

"No. Sherlock. You're not listening!" John said exasperated, he crossed the distance and sat himself down on the edge of Sherlock's bed, close to the man himself, "What happened that day, when I pushed you away, I just…I didn't want us to move so quickly…I mean I didn't even know if you…loved me then or not…that's why I rejected you and when I just tried to explain…you wouldn't even hear it. I thought that I'd lost it, lost my chance with you," John said seeing a smile back on Sherlock's face, he continued then, "I want you to know that…I like you more than a friend too…I think I'm in love with you," John says.

Sherlock cocks his head to the side now, "You think? How can you think that you're in love with me?" he asked teasingly, taking John's hand to hold in his own now, he leaned in close to John, "I'm going to make you say it John Watson. I'm going to make you say that you love me," he whispered then he pressed his lips to John's feeling the other leaning into the kiss as well.


	17. Lestrade Wins the Bet

John was open to him now as they kissed, leaning in to him, his lips opening beneath his as his hands circled him, tangling in his hair. Sherlock, lay back down, pulling John with him, hearing as the other kicked off his boots and joined him in bed, lying atop him now as Sherlock took the kisses to John's neck, nibbling on the man's skin, tasting him.

Sherlock let his hands wander down John's back, pulling at the shirt now as he freed it from the other's pants, his fingers meeting heated skin beneath the shirt as he let them travel up John's back. They broke away from the kiss panting now as Sherlock urged John to lift his arms, pulling the shirt completely off the other as he tossed the shirt aside, flipping John beneath him now as his lips kissed John's lightly muscled chest.

John groaned at the tightness growing in the confines of his pants his hand grasping at Sherlock's shirt wanting to pull it off the man so that he could feel skin on skin. So that he could touch Sherlock just as intimately. His breath hitched when Sherlock's mouth covered his nipple, sucking on the little nub of desire now, his tongue flicking over it and making John gasp as his fingers fisted in Sherlock's shirt.

"Jesus, Sherlock!" he cried as he let the other continue to assault him, skilled fingers already trailing down south to undo his pants as Sherlock's lips found his again and they were locked in another battle of tongues this time, John smirked as he let his tongue invade Sherlock's mouth, the wet muscles rubbing against each other as Sherlock's hand now cupped his naked erection.

A bolt of electricity coursed through him at the contact and every time after now as Sherlock's hand gripped his erection and began to stroke him.  _'Oh fuck…'_ John thought as he felt Sherlock's lips break away from his now, his lungs pulling in air like a swimmer coming up from the water now as Sherlock stripped him of his pants.

"Yessss" John hissed, his eyelids drooping close in pleasure as he felt Sherlock pumping him now, harder and faster. John moaned in pleasure as he felt Sherlock's lips on him, kissing him softly, sweetly now, tongue tracing down the sensitive skin of his cock. His hips jerked up to the other man, wanting more his fingers tangling in soft dark curls as he pulled Sherlock to him.

The captain smirked as he gave head to the man beneath him. His lover now, as Sherlock would like to think of it, the sweet moans that escaped John's lips only serving to encourage him more as he sucked hard on John, hollowing out his cheeks as he felt John's fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him away now. Sherlock pulled back just in time, feeling the hot bursts of John's desire just on his lips, dripping onto the other man's stomach as he sat back on his legs now.

"You really like that, didn't you?" Sherlock whispered with a devilish grin and John nodded back in response to him, his breath still coming fast as he came down from his climax. God it had felt so good to have Sherlock's mouth on him, sucking him off as his hand stroked his length and milked. A shudder of delicious desire ran through his body at the thought of that and John felt his cock hardening again.

"Looks like someone wants a round two," Sherlock teased as he kneels up on the bed again.

John pulls Sherlock to him, "You're still fully clothed my captain, that isn't very good now is it?" John teased cocking his head to the side as he reaches for Sherlock's shirt, lifting the edges and pulling it up, revealing a finely muscled torso, he let his hands glide along Sherlock's chest, memorizing every inch now as he finally pulled the shirt over Sherlock's head, tossing it to one side.

The captain's body was something that John had not expected to see, it was like a Grecian masterpiece, especially so now that Sherlock was taking off his pants, standing there at the edge of the bed naked for him to see. Strong yet slim thighs, where in between them lay his manhood and John's mouth went dry at the sight of it as he gulped, his breath leaving him in a rush of air.

Sherlock stroked John's hair back from his face, "I won't hurt you, don't worry," he whispered as he leaned in kissing John softly on the lips again. He took the lotion out from his drawer, something he used to keep his skin from cracks and burns out here on the sea and he uncapped it, handing it to John seeing the doctor's eyes blackening with lust.

John took the bottle without a word scooping the lotion onto his hand, he knelt before Sherlock at the edge of the bed, his hand trembling as it reached for Sherlock's cock, fingers curling around the sensitive organ as he began to stroke his captain, the gel easing him along as he coated Sherlock's heated length. His own cock hardening once more as he heard Sherlock's growls and moans in his ear as the captain leaning upon him relied on him for support.

He felt the captain's finger prodding his rear end now and he leaned in closer to Sherlock's body, shuddering as he felt a slick finger enter him, stroking him, making him moan softly against Sherlock's neck as he began to lose control once more. Another finger was added to the first and John's breaths came in short little gasps, there was an apparent discomfort now as he gripped on to Sherlock tightly his motions stilled.  _'This isn't going to work…'_

"Relax John," Sherlock whispered into the doctor's ear now as he pushed the other back into bed, spreading his legs as he let his fingers scissor inside the other, stretching him open. He'd rather John feel pain now than be broken later in the process of this. Sherlock added another finger when John had adjusted to two, watching as the man's face beneath him contorted once more in pain before smoothing out into one of pleasure as his hips rocked down, making his fingers thrust into his body.

Sherlock liked how John wanted him like this and wanted him so badly that when he pulled his fingers away, John's eyes flew open, a whimper escaping him as those blue eyes pleaded with him to come back. He smiled and leaned in to his lover, guiding himself to John's entrance as he pushed in slowly capturing John's lips as he heard the other moan loudly into the kiss.

John gripped tight to Sherlock now as he tried to relax in the man's grip, his breath coming short as he panted, Sherlock felt so huge inside him, stretching him wide and John didn't want to make the man feel bad so he tried his best to hide the pain as he kissed Sherlock. It helped, the headiness of the kiss as he focused on that and Sherlock's hands that continued their tender ministrations on his body, slowly stroking the pain away.

Pain turned to pleasure now as John moaned, feeling Sherlock thrusting into him now building a rhythm that made him go mad. It was wonderful to be one with him, to be one with the man that he loved. John just couldn't get enough of that wonderful feeling of being filled to the brim with Sherlock's cock inside of him. He opened his eyes meeting Sherlock's blue-grey ones as the captain leaned his forehead to his, "I love you Sherlock, there, I said it," John panted with a cheeky little grin as he felt Sherlock kiss him again smiling into the kiss.

"I love you John," Sherlock replied and it was true.

"Oh yes! Yes! Sherlock!" John's cries could be heard through the door now, accompanied by the grunts of the captain and the sound of the violent creaking of the bed. Lestrade, Molly, Sally and Mrs. Hudson were huddled outside the captain's cabin, snickering and giggling as the high fived each other.

Lestrade had a wide grin on his face, "Told you they'd get back together," he whispered as he held out his hand to Sally, "Come on pay up!" he said smirking as the woman rolled her eyes handing over three doubloons.

"Oh Sherlock better not be too rough on John," Mrs. Hudson remarked, grinning knowingly as she got her share of the bets.

They were all too interested in betting and claiming their shares to realize that there was one person missing from the group and this would cost them later on. It would cost them so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Yayy so finally Sherlock and John get their little happy ending. (sort of.) Anyway, i'm starting school in another 3-4 days time so sometimes my uploads might be late. Also, i would like to thank all of you that have read this story so far. Thank you for supporting me and for all the nice comments that you leave me, they really do make my day! :) Well i hoped you like this chapter and i'll see you in the next one soon! Ciao!


	18. The Company Arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so i just got back from camp, i'm really tired out. Hahaha, but you don't really need to hear about that. Anyway, here's the next chapter of the story guys! I do hope that you enjoy it. Leave a comment after you have read this chapter finished to tell me what you like about it :) Comments do make my day. Well do read on now! Enjoy!

Once more they set sail from the Port of Mili Atol now headed out into the seas for Queensland, Australia. Sherlock stood at the wheel now John beside him as they talked. Lestrade had been sentenced to swabbing the deck on his own after Sherlock had found him listening outside the door with the rest. He had to be the instigator, he always was the instigator for such things.

"He's still not off the hook yet?" John asked as he looked to where Lestrade was standing on the deck stretching as he waved to him.

"No. The nerve of him, listening in to us," Sherlock growled.

John blushed at the mention of 'us', he liked it, liked how Sherlock was so possessive about him and wanted to protect him. He knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to tell Sherlock about the debts he incurred and then he would have to leave to try to get his money on his own.  _'Or you could always ask him to help you to pay it off. He is after all your lover and he's a pirate with hoards of treasure,'_ he thought to himself now as he took a seat on the railing.  _'This way you won't have to steal the treasure yourself…'_

They are headed for Port Douglas in the far north of Queensland now, it's been two days since they restocked at the Port of Mili Atol. As he looks out to sea, the blue horizon stretching out before him, a hand on the wheel to guide the ship, Sherlock thinks the weather is great. Everything is wonderful, John by his side, the crew working hard, now if only they can find another ship to raid.  _'You need to start talking about the Pirate King issue,'_ he thinks to himself. Sherlock looks over to John, golden blonde hair caressed by the wind, his back to him as he looks out over the ocean, a picture of serenity and he has to spoil it.

He takes a deep breath before calling to John, "John, I need to tell you-"

Overhead Donovan's voice calls out, "A ship's been spotted captain! She flies the Company flag sir!"

Sherlock freezes his hands stuck on the wheel. Just his luck… "Hoist the sails! I want her to catch the wind, we should be able to ride her out," he called out to the men, Mycroft taking his position now ordering the men to hoist the sails, Lestrade getting the battle equipment ready just in case they needed to fight.

"I don't think so cap! They've got rowers and they're gaining fast!" Sally calls back down to him. Of all things…a stupid Company ship with oars and wind to propel the ship! With that Sherlock hands the wheel over to the quartermaster now as he whisks John away from the railing. He needs to hide him should anything happen to them.

John's heart thuds heavily in his chest at the mention of the Company flag being spotted. His time is up. "Sherlock, Sherlock wait," he says as he tries to wriggle out of the captain's strong grip that's holding him. He's being propelled towards the captain's quarters now. Sherlock is not even listening to him.

"You're to stay here until I come and get you. If I don't, you find a way to escape you hear me?" Sherlock says as he kisses John briefly on the forehead leaving the cabin now.

"No wait Sherlock…" John trails off as the door slams shut in his face…he is going to have to wait to tell his tale and things will not look nice if Sherlock finds out about it later.

Back on deck, Sherlock arms himself with his sword as the Company ship slowly pulls up alongside his. A voice on the other deck calls out to him, "Well well, if it isn't the Pirate King Sherlock Holmes and his motley crew," the voice calls before someone swings over landing perfectly on deck, sword drawn. Sherlock has his own cutlass pointed at the man at the same instant.

"Hello Anderson. Nice to meet you, I wonder how you caught up to me I thought I covered my trails pretty well," Sherlock muttered, his mind flitting to Jim as he put himself before his crew, protecting them just as a captain should. Could the bastard Jim actually have been ratting him out on the other end to the Company?

Anderson tutted, shaking his head, "Apparently, Sherlock your ship has a few little mice that love to feed me information, not to mention one of your own friends…or should I say…your ex best friend?" Anderson asked cocking a brow.

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked, eyes flicking from Anderson then to his men and back to Anderson.

"Why don't you come on out? You have immunity after all. You helped the East India Company eradicate pirates and you will be rewarded, there will be no shame for you," Anderson said his voice ringing out loud and clear over the rolling of the waves and the soft flapping of the sails in the wind.

Sherlock watched then as someone else joined Anderson on deck, a petite young woman, none other than Irene Adler and after her, his own brother Mycroft who weaved his way out of the crowd behind him to stand at Anderson's side. Behind him his crew began to throw insults at Mycroft and Sherlock held up a hand silencing them. Two people. Two betrayers was all that he had needed. Why hadn't he seen it earlier? But Irene of all people? She had warned him to cover his tracks! No, she had taken the warning from Jim and informed him of it.

"Surprised aren't we Sherlock?" Anderson says his smile triumphant now. He has won over the greatest pirate of the seven seas. With this man down, the rest of the piracy would only take some time to come crumbling down. It was like a kingdom without a king.

"Irene why! Does Jim know?" Sherlock growls as he takes a step forward only to be scared back into line by Anderson when a pistol shoots at him, a bullet whizzing past and grazing his arm, the hot searing pain following after making him hiss as his sword clatters to the floor now, his hand going to grip the wound.

"You're not to lay a hand on the Company's property, pirate," Anderson laughs watching the Pirate King hiss in pain, "Irene why don't you tell him dear? Tell him why you joined me."

Sherlock looked to the woman he thought had been his friend, the one who had tipped him off before. Why would she do this and where was Jim in all of this? Her eyes never once met his instead they stayed averted as she spoke.

"I wouldn't have gained anything from either you or Jim. So I figured if I wanted money I needed to go to the one with the power, that would be the East India Company. They could pay me better than any of you ever could. So I joined them, offered my services as a spy because I knew you. I knew where you would be and how to get to you…" she said.

Sherlock could sense a tinge of remorse in her voice for some reason though he didn't know why he sympathized with her, he wasn't angry with her because all this seemed forced for some reason, almost as though as she were coerced into saying those words.

"She's been a very good girl to keep her family going you know. A very smart woman indeed," Anderson said as he glared at Sherlock, "I think you'd find your brother's explanation even more interesting, or maybe you already know why he gave up your positions each time you were in town."

From the back of the crowd Lestrade couldn't believe that his friend would do this, Mycroft hadn't seemed like the kind to carry his hatred for his brother that far. Anyone sane enough knew that if a pirate was caught by the Company, they would be taken to the nearest port and hanged before their body would be displayed at the gates of the port itself as a reminder to all pirates of their fate should they cross the Company. Was Mycroft really serious about this having given up his own brother's position just like that. What happened to blood is thicker than water?

"You already know Sherlock I don't like you. I never did, you always were too smart and too good. I wanted to bring you down, I had a chance and I took it, survival of the fittest Sherlock. Survival of the fittest," Mycroft said, his voice was cold there was no remorse whatsoever in it and his eyes were glassy.

"You bastard!" Sherlock howled throwing himself at Mycroft as he bashed his brother in the face, feeling the dislodging of his nose beneath his knuckles. Another loud bang from a gun had Sherlock thrown onto his back writhing in pain as a bullet sat lodged in his side now, thankfully not too deep. He could live with it, with a little battle scar in the end.

"Pirates are clearly deaf. I said not to touch the property of the Company!" Anderson growled as he holstered his pistol once more. Fingers gripping onto the captain's black hair and yanking him up onto his knees, "Don't fight me like that Sherlock, I've been waiting for this day for so, so long," he cooed, backhanding the man across his face now as he pulled himself back to his full height, eyes scanning the rest of the crew.

Apparently the other prize that he had come to collect wasn't here. The blonde hair and blue eyes was missing from the crowd. "Where is he?" he growled looking to Sherlock who was now a bloody mess, his shirt dampened in crimson blood at his left sleeve and his torso, his lip bleeding from the cut from the backhand. Anderson smirked when he saw the captain's eyes widen in fear. Clearly the man was on the ship somewhere, he just had to beat it out of this man.

"Where is John Watson?" he growled signaling more men to come onto the  _Bel Ange_ now.

"I don't know who you speak of," Sherlock spat, his mind in a whirl now as he tried to focus on the image of Anderson, Irene and Mycroft. Why was John involved in any of this? How did the Company know about John in the first place? And why would they look for him here and now? The worst sort of answers came into his mind as he thought up different scenarios.

_'Please don't let them find him…please…'_


	19. Secrets Uncovered

John held his breath in the cabin, listening by the door.  _'Pirate King?'_ he thought to himself. Why hadn't Sherlock ever mentioned that to him? He had secrets that he hadn't told him…John didn't feel so bad now that he hadn't told Sherlock of his secrets either. After all if Sherlock hadn't trusted him enough to confide such important information to him then it wasn't John's fault if he too never mentioned a word to the captain about his encounter with the Company either.

He'd thought Sherlock would at least have told him! He had wanted to tell Sherlock, yes, because he trusted the man but he was afraid and now this had to happen. This stupid thing had to happen. John got up from his position going over to one of Sherlock's treasure hoards and searching as quietly as he could for a cutlass or a dagger or something that he could use to fight with. He would have to get out of this somehow, then he would confront Sherlock on the Pirate King issue.

"Well?" Anderson asked as he grasped Sherlock by the chin. He wasn't a patient man when it came to getting people who had to pay back their debts, "Where is John Watson?" he snarled.

"I. Don't. Know." Sherlock snarled back punctuating each word clearly.

"Alright. If you won't talk then we'll tear up this place till we find him," Anderson said signaling his men to raid the place as he shoved Sherlock back onto the deck, "I've always got my way to find people Sherlock, I am the Company, people will listen to me," he said, standing back on his heels now as he watched his men smash their way into the ship's hold, crashing and banging and destroying everything. They pulled out an elderly lady from the galley along with a young woman.

"Don't touch them," Sherlock growled he knew just what Company scum would think about doing to women like them.

"Why not?" Anderson asked running a hand along Molly's cheek, "She's pretty isn't she? I bet she's virgin. Or have you taken her?" Anderson asked, "Oh sorry I forgot they don't interest you. Women don't catch your eye like they used to do they?" Anderson mocked as he gave a condescending glare to Irene, the only one who had caught Sherlock's eye, the only woman.

Sherlock kept silent at that, chanting a prayer in his mind to whatever god that might listen, praying that John would not be found. But it wasn't to be for from his cabin there was a clattering sound and he cussed silently as the men ran from their positions and surrounded the cabin.  _'No. No. No.'_

Anderson smirked, "Looks like we've found a stowaway," he said smirking giving another order for the men to enter.

There was the sound of metal clashing of metal, apparently John had found a sword in there somewhere and he was fighting back single handedly. Sherlock knew this wouldn't last what with how John had ended up last time cornered. He feared that the Company officers might take his life. Sherlock struggled to get up, to head to his cabin but Anderson trailed his pistol on him.

"Do I need to remind you? I'm going to put a bullet in your head if you move," Anderson said, his voice sounding terribly bored.

Sherlock could only watch then as moments later a smaller group of men came out bloodied and bruised but there between them they held an even more disheveled John. Streaks of blood falling down his face, his cheeks and his nose, his shirt was torn and he was bleeding from the wounds. Sherlock's heart hurt at the sight of his lover as they dragged him before Anderson.

"John Hamish Watson," Anderson coos as his men force the doctor to his knees, he shook his head in mock disgrace as he tutted, "Running away just so you didn't have to pay your debts and hiding on a ship with the Pirate King. How incredibly wonderful!" he mocked clapping his hands now in mock admiration.

Sherlock stared from Anderson to John, what was this? Debts? The debts John's father had incurred, could that be what they were talking about? Debts that his mother and sister had tried to pay off but had failed, both dying in the process, so the debts hadn't been paid off. John had lied? He'd certainly never mentioned being involved with the Company at all.

Anderson caught the look between the two and he smirked even more, "Oh this gets more interesting doesn't it? The doctor doesn't know about the Pirate King and the Pirate King doesn't know about the doctor's debts. You'll have some fun together in the brigs later won't you?"

"I was going to tell him you know," John answered back, defiance in his eyes as he stared up at Anderson.

"Really now? I don't think so. You want to know why?" Anderson offered and John knew exactly what he was going to say. "Because this time it's your life that I would have claimed in the form of the debt. But you ran away. Hid with a pirate. You have all the gold within arm's length, you think you're going to let that go? Obviously not! So you'll hide your little secret from him, get to know him and then maybe cozy up to him, spend some time in his bed and then," Anderson made a desperate grasping gesture, "you're going to run away with his gold and treasures to pay off your debts."

John hung his head, the man had twisted the words so much that he knew even Sherlock would believe that every word of that had been right. Well…in truth, Anderson hadn't been fully wrong, John had contemplated stealing ever since he had first stepped onto the ship but now, now that he had fallen completely in love with Sherlock he couldn't do it. He wouldn't do it, he wasn't that sort of person. In fact that thought about stealing had gone so far from his mind in the mere weeks that he had gotten to know Sherlock.

Sherlock could only gawk at the defeated figure of John now.  _'No…it can't be…please don't let it be…John wouldn't…'_ he thought to himself. He'd trusted John,  _'apparently not enough to tell him about the Pirate King part…'_ came his thoughts once more. He opened his mouth then to speak, "John…is that true?" he asked, looking at the way the doctor hung his head, he could already tell the answer before he even answered.

"I…Sherlock…I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…but that was in the beginning. In fact I gave up that idea a long time ago! What we shared everything, every little moment of that, it's all true Sherlock please!" John said desperate now as Sherlock turned away from him.

"You got in bed with me just to get my gold. You could've just asked you know John? You could've just asked. I would have given it to you willingly," Sherlock whispered, closing his eyes as the confirmation dealt the final blow to his heart. Never again would he trust another person in his life. Never again would he open himself up to anyone. He wouldn't allow himself to fall in love. It was a weakness, look at where it got him. Kneeling before the Company's man, with his supposed lover at his side..

John could see the betrayal on Sherlock's face, could feel the hurt and pain roiling off of him in large waves. For a moment he was hurt at Sherlock's comment of him getting into bed with Sherlock just to get his gold. Then he thought, he shouldn't feel too sorry for the man who had also hidden a secret from him, he opened his mouth, "But you're no better are you Sherlock? Keeping the Pirate King secret to yourself. When were you going to tell me?" John asked.

"You didn't need to know. I was only protecting you," he heard the words leave Sherlock's lips, cold and unfeeling as those glassy blue-greys looked to him, "Now you know, what are you gonna do about it? You can't do anything because everything ends here," he whispered, defeated.

"Touching isn't it. Breakups," Anderson said with a pretentious sigh, "Lock them up," he ordered now as the men rounded up his crew. "And don't even think of fighting," he said holding his pistol in Lestrade's direction, forcing the first mate to drop his cutlass.

One by one they were filed onto the  _Terminus_ , the Company's ship. Locked into cells, Sherlock and John each getting one while the rest were crammed ten to one. The  _Bel Ange_ was put into tow behind the  _Terminus_  and hauled along now as they sailed on, continuing their voyage.

Anderson came down into the brigs, a bright smile on his face as he surveyed the scene. He heaved a sigh of happiness, "Ahh, wonderful. My work is done," he said looking from Sherlock's cell to John's across his, then down the rows to the crew members, "You will be brought to the holding cells of the Company in Queensland, there you may stretch your legs in bigger cells for about a week or two before you'll be shipped back off to England then hanged in public till death. The whole world's gonna want to see the Pirate King hanged," he remarked turning now and leaving the brig once more.

In the brigs nothing could be heard at all, everyone was quiet and the only sound that could be heard was the sound of the timbers creaking and the sound of the water against the side of the ship. All were caught in their own thoughts, their own remorse and depression as they sat in their cells, prisoners of the Company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: So once again thank you guys for reading the latest chapter! I hope you enjoyed it :) Do leave me some comments to tell me what you liked about it and i'll be back next week with another chapter for you guys! :)


	20. Sacrifices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello guys! It's finally Friday over here and i am officially bushed from school work and life itself. I barely have time to write anymore and that saddens me. Anyway, here's the new chapter for the story, i do hope you like it leave me some comments to tell me what you like about this chapter and yeah, i'll try to put up the next chapter when i have the time.

The rest of the week passed by dull and dreary. Sherlock kept to himself more than ever, watching from afar as John too kept to himself. Both equally hurt by the other's betrayal and their lies. As Sherlock was locked back into his cell he sat down in the crate, thoughts running in his mind. Even if John had stolen from him…he wouldn't really have minded would he? Treasure would always be able to be gained back, what with his reputation.

But John was another thing, there was only one of him and according to Anderson's words, his life had been on the line in payment of his debts. Yet he still couldn't come to terms with John's betrayal, his lack of trust in him. Sherlock knew that if it was him, if he was in John's shoes, he might do just the same thing to save his life. Cheat a pirate's feelings, maybe share his bed for the night then steal his treasure and save his own life. John was a true pirate at heart. He would make an even better Pirate King than he did. Had their time in bed really meant nothing to John? No…that couldn't be true, it couldn't be and Sherlock knew that because he had felt John's love for him in each kiss each touch and there had been nothing more pure and more true than that.

So now what? He could offer Anderson his treasure to pay for John's release. There was more than enough to pay for all of their release, of course Anderson wouldn't allow that. But for one person, paying off John's debts…it should be enough. Sherlock looked across the cell to where John lay on the floor huddled up in thin blankets, fast asleep. He would give anything to see him free from the cells, to see him happy. After all this wasn't the place that John was supposed to be in. John wasn't a pirate like him, like them all, he was different. He was a fully trained doctor, he could have so much ahead of him, a wholesome good life. That was what Sherlock would do, he would ask for John to be released, given back his freedom. John didn't need to know.

So Sherlock waited till they were transferring them into the Company holding cells back on land before he requested to meet with Anderson alone. The guard led him down the corridors, Sherlock committing the twists and turns to memory now as he was brought before Anderson's office.

"The Pirate King wishes for a word with you Sir," the guard said as he held him in place, shackles around his hand.

"Leave us," Anderson said, waving the guard out.

Sherlock turned to look now watching as the door closed behind him, his attention brought back to the snake before him.

"Well? What is it that you want? I need to get my beauty sleep you know," Anderson said.

"I'll pay off John's debt," Sherlock said, cutting it straight to the point, "all my treasure for John's release," he says.

Anderson shook his head tutting again, a habit of his Sherlock realized, "All of the Pirate King's treasure just for one measly life? That's a big bargain you're throwing out there. Johnny boy must be something precious to you huh?" Anderson said stroking his chin, "What if I say it's not enough?" he said raising a brow, throwing a challenge to the Pirate King, he knew the man possessed immense knowledge and had a way with words, he would like to test that out a little.

"You're already going to spill my blood. The credit will go to your name. They'll knight you, give you a better position, more pay, maybe even new houses and women for your pleasure, what more do you want?" Sherlock asked, resigned to his fate now as he answered his captor.

"That's true. You're going to come willingly then?" Anderson asked.

"Yes."

Anderson nodded his head. This would be a very big win for him. Unimaginable riches, a new title for him and a higher position in the Company, there was no way he could be losing, "Alright. Fine. I accept your deal."

Sherlock nodded, then paused before he said, "One thing, you can't tell John okay? John must never know about this."

"Oh I wonder why you don't want him to know…perhaps it's because you're taking care of him again," Anderson teased mimicking the quotation marks around the words taking care.

"Don't you dare tell him Anderson," Sherlock growled, taking a step forward.

Anderson mocked a fearful look, "Oh don't worry I respect the Pirate King's wishes. I wouldn't want to tell him anyway," he said rolling his eyes now. He called in the guard, both of them whispering now before the guard left and then Irene was called in to the room. She kept her distance from him, her eyes averted as she approached Anderson, speaking in hushed tones now before he waved her out.

"Matter's have been taken care off. He'll be out in the streets by tonight."

Sherlock balked at the statement, "You're going to leave him in the streets? At least leave him some money to live on," Sherlock said.

"You didn't specify that. You only traded your treasure for John's release you didn't tell me to leave him some money. So I'm leaving him to fend for himself on the streets, it's better than nothing," Anderson said.

"You bastard," Sherlock growled seething in anger now as he was waved off, the guards dragging him back down to the cells.

John was awoken by a voice calling to him now, he opened his eyes, blinking once or twice as his vision focused on the face. Irene Adler stood at the opening of the door.

"…up…quickly…" he heard as he felt her grabbing at him now, pulling the blankets along with him. Groggily he shook sleep from him as he focused. She was helping him to get out, that much he could see.

"Wait…I need…Sherlock…" John mumbled as he was led along. If he was getting out he needed to see the man one more time, to tell him that he was sorry and to try to explain that what Anderson had said wasn't true.

"No time for that. Hurry now," Irene said as she propelled him down the corridor. John caught a glimpse of Sherlock's back in his cell as he slept facing the wall. The strong planes of his back, he looked so lonely in the cell, curled in on his side like that. John wanted to rush to him, put his hands through the gate to try to reach Sherlock and touch his face. Kiss him maybe just once before he was dragged off to god only knows where.

One final tug and John was out of the area with cells, his last glimpse of Sherlock had been of him sleeping and to John it seemed too sad. He didn't know why.

Once they were out of the Company's facility, Irene pulled him into the shadows, shoving some bills into his hand, "This should get you on a ship from here to Tortuga. Once you're there, go to the inns and ask to see the one in a crown."

"What?" John asked as he shoved the money into his pockets quickly.

"Ask for Jim, he's the only one who can help us," she said glancing around as if to check if they had been followed.

"Jim. Right. Why are you helping us?" John asked, looking to the petite woman, Irene, he noted as she averted her eyes.

"It's the least I can do. I owe Sherlock that much. I didn't mean for him to get caught. I tried to delay it but Mycroft was always a step ahead. So I had to go along with the plan," she paused, looking to him as though trying to make him understand, "I had to pretend I was on their side. Now listen to me John, Sherlock's paid for your release with all his treasure. He doesn't want you to know though, I don't know why but you can ask him when you next see him."

"Wait a second Irene, what do you mean by that?" John asked. Couldn't they go back in right now and rouse them and get out.

"You have to get this half done on your own John. If you want to save Sherlock you need to find Jim Moriarty."

John looked skeptical for a moment, "What good can Jim do? He's a pirate the Company will take him in as well," he commented. John also didn't like the fact that it was Jim, the one who'd leaned in to Sherlock suggestively while they danced around on the deck of the  _Nightlark_  with swords, that was going to be saving Sherlock.

There was a clearing of a throat nearby, the mere sound that broke the silence startled the two and Irene, took him further from the Company's holding area on to the area close to the docks now, hiding once more in the cover of the shadows.

"Let's just say that Jim pulls a lot of strings, he's more powerful than the Company. He's basically the only hope we have right now, he's going to help get us out of here and that's if you can reach him."

John looked to her now, "Could you tell Sherlock…that I'll find him? Tell him that I'm going to hold my promise to him, to fulfill my duty as a part of his crew? Just let him know…please…" John said, knowing that their time was running out.

Irene nodded, "I will. You take care now. I don't know what might happen but just try to steer clear of the East India Company for now. Once you're with Jim, everything will be fine," she said as she looked over her shoulder towards the Company's holding cells.

"Tell him I'm sorry as well and that…I…still love him," John whispered seeing her nod again now as they parted ways. Irene headed back into the compound as he himself headed for the docks in search of a pirate ship that might take him to Tortuga.

"I'm coming back for you Sherlock, just you wait," he whispered under his breath as he slipped onto a cargo ship that was anchored at port. By the type of cargo that they were holding and mainly from the little tags that had the typed words, 'To Brazil' he knew just where his destination would be.

Judging from the fact that the ship was a sloop, the fastest kind on the sea so far as long as there was wind and the last time he'd looked at the map, Sherlock's map, Brazil was as close to Tortuga as he could get on a cargo ship. Not counting the risks that he had to run of the crew discovering him and all. He would do this for Sherlock. To make it up to him.

With that thought in mind John settled in between the numerous cargo boxes in the hold, closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep.


	21. Seeking Jim's Help

It was some weeks later as they were all loaded onto the  _Terminus_  again did Sherlock think over what Irene had told him. John had left him with the message of I love you and a promise that he would be back. He wasn't sure to believe it or not. Even though his mind kept telling him no, telling him not to believe that John would be coming back, his heart told him to hold on to that fact. That was all that he had to go on right now. Something he lived for.

Apparently word of this had passed on to the rest of the crew as well for their moods were lifted considerably, every time they were alone now, they began to talk more, when the guards came they made sure that they kept their mouths shut, all of them probably knew that John would be coming back. Though he didn't know when...close to a month had passed and Sherlock had to say that his hope was slowly dwindling.

John ran through the streets of a Brazilian town now, the captain and the crew from the cargo ship had found him out at the last moment and the moment that the ship had docked, John came out from his hiding place in the galley now and made a run for it. He weaved in and out of the street stalls, taking a turn down another alley way now as he headed back in a round towards the docks.

Quickly he ducked into one of the taverns there, ordering his dinner quickly before he was back out in the streets. He was in the port Belém now, the Portuguese word for Bethlehem or so he had learnt from the sign that hung in the docks. It was a Port at the north eastern tip of Brazil if he remembered correctly and it would serve him well as the distance from here to Tortuga was about a two to three days journey by ship.

This time as he made his way into the docks, he kept his eyes peeled for the Company soldiers along with the crew of that cargo ship. As he was looking he spotted a pirate ship now right at the end of the pier. He knew it was a pirate ship because he was sure that he had seen that ship somewhere before. As John approached it, he realized he might be mistaken for another ship.

It was beaten and battered and the sails were in disarray. But there was still something that made it look very familiar. Right there on the starboard side  _Mauvais Ange_ was written and John's stomach did little summersaults of joy. He didn't need to look any further. The ship was right here…in a battered state…that only meant that he had to look for the captain. If the captain was still here though…

John was relieved to see at least one familiar face near the ship, disgruntling as it was to see the ex navy convict. Blonde haired and deep blue eyes, the tall man stared at him now and John tried hard not to look at the jagged pink skin of the scar that ran down one side of his face, the scar from a battle with a Tiger or so he'd heard of this man from other people.

He stopped before the man, Moran Moran as he looked him squarely in the eyes now, "I'm looking for Jim Moriarty…" he murmured, stashing his fear away. He had remembered seeing Moran with Jim on the  _Mauvais Ange_ the two times they had clashed and he knew that if this man was around, the captain, Jim wouldn't be that far behind.

"He's not here," the man replied.

"Okay…I guess I can wait here for him to come back," John murmured about to take a seat on one of the crates.

"No."

John raised a brow at that, looking from Moran to the ship then at the crates, "It's important. Please. I really need to talk to him," John said, he didn't expect to come face to face with this man of all people.

"Jim doesn't like visitors."

"What," John sighed exasperated now as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to get on this man's bad side, but he couldn't just stand there and do absolutely nothing and wait for the stupid captain to return!

"Seb? Is something the matter?" came the voice of the man he was looking for now as he came down the gangplank.

John heaved a sigh of relief, "Jim! Jesus, thank gods I found you," he said going over to Jim but having the tall convict block him in seconds.

"It's okay Seb, he's fine. He's Sherlock's pet," Jim explained with a little smirk as he patted the convict's arm, then turned to look at him now, "Why are you here?" he asked his eyes looking over the disheveled body of his.

"I need your help. Well…not just me, Sherlock and Irene, the whole crew back there needs your help," John explained.

Jim raised a brow, leaning back against Moran who supported him now, "Need my help? For what? Let me guess they got into trouble and now they need good ol' Jimmy to save their asses. No can do Johnny boy. I've already done more than enough for Sherlock and look where it's got me," Jim said indicating his ship.

"Jim please! Irene specifically asked for your help! She knows you're capable of the job," John said.

"Irene Adler left my crew," he snarled, "that bitch. She had me marooned on an island alone for a week. If it wasn't for my dear Moran here, I would be dead. Another thing, she is the reason why I lost my whole damn crew and the reason why my ship," Jim jerked a finger towards the  _Mauvais Ange_ again, looking beaten and battered, "looks like that. I don't want to help that woman at all and neither do I want to help Sherlock. The two of them have screwed my life over enough and I'm sick of it."

John sighed. Irene had clearly been smart enough to omit those parts from their conversation right before they left. But John was determined to make sure that he succeeded in this mission. Sherlock's life depended on this.

"Please Jim, listen to me. The East India Company caught Sherlock somehow. The whole of the  _Bel Ange_ 's crew is caught. They're being held in Queensland's jail, the one that the Company has a hold on. They'll be shipped off to England. Brought in to London and executed in public Jim! If that happens, then the Company will have a hold on the pirate world. Piracy will crumble Jim and you will face the hangman's noose sooner or later."

Jim laughed, mock wiping away a tear now as he approached John, "Very good speech you give Doctor Watson," he said with a laugh, "First things first, I will never get caught. I have the key to everything. I know how to get myself out of sticky situations. I don't even have to worry. Secondly, Sherlock and I are a thing of the past. I'm not going to help him out anymore than I already have and lastly, even if I were to help Sherlock, what's in it for me?"

"Okay…whatever it is that you had between you two back then, can't you just do it on that account?" John asked, knowing that there had to be more to Sherlock's and Jim's relationship that met the eye. "If it's a fight or something, I'm sure he'll forgive you if you go back for him now…please…I don't want to lose him Jim…" John whispered swallowing hard as he felt himself trembling now at the thought that he might have come here all this way for nothing.

Jim crossed his arms over his chest. In the first place, John totally didn't understand the situation between Sherlock and him and clearly Sherlock hadn't spoken of it to him either. For John doesn't even have the slightest inkling of what he was asking. Jim knew full well John loved Sherlock. He knew full well that Sherlock and him were over and that it was his doing, yet now he felt jealous at the mere thought of helping John free Sherlock and having John take half the credit for this.

It was natural, only natural to hate the person that you contested with for another's affection. Even if that was in the past…It's still as though you own a part of him and you feel protective of that. Which was why Jim didn't want to help but he found himself answering otherwise.

"Alright. I'll help you…" Jim muttered.

John's face lit up, "Great! What do we need to do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Yayy so i finally got around to posting the next chapter. Do leave me a comment to tell me what you liked about this chapter or something. I haven't been writing any new stories for now because of my workload...yeah so i'm sort of draggin my posting so that i can have enough to last me till...June? That's when i get my vacation!! Yayy :) Anyway thanks for all the support guys!


	22. Don't Want To Die

Jim stared at the doctor. Was he seriously daft? "Well, look, my ship as you can see," Jim said indicating the  _Mauvais Ange_ , "is in no shape to be running. So I'm guessing that we'll be needing a ship and a crew. It's obvious we wouldn't be able to get anywhere like this," Jim murmured as he trailed off.

"So all we need to do is to commandeer a ship, get a crew and we can set sail right?" John asked, he wanted to get this over and done with as soon as possible so that he could quickly be brought back to Sherlock's side.

"You think that getting a ship and a crew is that easy?" Jim scoffed, "you're going to need honorable, trustworthy men. And on top of that you can't do that without commandeering a ship. Your crewmen that you pick are going to want to see which ship they're going to be riding on."

John sighed, it was almost as if the man didn't want to help him at all...and to think that Irene had said that this would be easy apparently she'd totally forgot to mention what an ass Jim Moriarty was. John couldn't really talk back to Jim, with Moran standing over there watching over him like a hawk, he was sure that Moran wouldn't hesitate to sock him if he said the wrong thing for spoke in the wrong manner.

So John decided it would be safer to take the less dangerous route of persuasion and flattery, "Okay, how about this, we split the work. You and your darling crew man," John said indicating Moran, "can do the job of commandeering a ship. I will take the job of getting a crew. You're a captain you should know what kind of ship you want. So I guess that it'll be better if you will get the ship and I the crew."

Jim looked to him dubiously, "Have you ever picked out a crew?" he asked, clearly stating the obvious and stopping John in his tracks. "I guessed as much. Look, I will get the crew, Moran and you will commandeer a ship alright?" he asked, seeing John's regret evident on his face, if there was one thing that John didn't want, Jim knew it would be to spend time next to Moran. If he only knew the man wasn't as bad as everyone claimed he was.

"I can get the crew Jim, you can take him and get a ship, but if he hurts you," Moran growled, looking to John, "I'll be sure to teach him a good lesson."

John sighed in relief as he watched the tall man walk away, the atmosphere almost instantly lightened up as he followed behind Jim. How was it that this man could pull strings he didn't understand. He seemed like any normal pirate, yet John had already learnt not to judge a book by its cover, "How do you do it?" John asked.

"Do what?" came Jim's reply as they walked past a merchant ship.

"Pull strings," John replied, remembering what Irene had told him.

"Irene…" Jim tutted as he turned to face John, shrugging his shoulders as he went along, "as long as you have something the other person wants badly enough they're willing to trade it for anything. I've got the world at my feet John, I can control anything and anyone. You just got to know which key fits the lock," he muttered, coming up by a galleon.

"This one looks fine enough. Three masts, " Jim muttered walking along the side of the dock as he took a look at her bow, "she's mighty fine, even got bow cannons," Jim said with a warm smile on his face, John had the feeling he was recalling a fond memory. "Look, she's even rightly named  _Revenge_."

"Is she going to be the one then?" John asked, standing near the ship's gangplank, the ship was still enough that it seemed as though there was no one around. Maybe the whole crew had gone ashore, that would b easy picking for them.

"Sherlock would like this. He always liked galleons like her. Said they were ships made for royalty," Jim muttered as he drew his sword, John followed suit now as they took to the gangplank, Jim leading the way. On deck, few lanterns were lit Jim was certain that there would be at least a few guards left behind to watch the ship. Slowly as they headed down into the galley, they found at least four men there gathered at a table, drinking. They were dressed rather sloppily, pirates, Jim guessed and a not so well to do gang of them. Jim signaled to John to cover the other side of the entrance now and told him that on his count they would attack.

John's heart was in his throat, this was his second time that he would encounter pirates like this, up close. Sherlock wasn't here to save him and Jim wouldn't care less if he died, in fact the latter might be happier if he did. He gripped tight to his cutlass, knuckles turning white now as he kept his eyes on Jim, waiting for his signal. ' _3…2…1_ ' They jumped out from behind the columns in the gallery, Jim quickly taking on two men.

John kept his focus on the two that lunged at him, a tall lanky man and another, a gargantuan of a sailor. The alcoholic smell of beer was so strong now as the gargantuan man flung the pint of beer at him, the liquid splashing all over him as he ducked, avoiding the pint as he kicked out the man's legs from under him now as he sent the giant of a man tumbling to the ground. Quickly, his sword was blocking the other attacker, tall and lanky he had a height advantage. John stumbled back as he threw his strength into his blow, pushing the lanky man backwards as he drew his sword in an arc across the man's chest, trying his best not to swoon at the sight of the crimson blood that dampened the white linen of the shirt that he wore, the lanky man crumpled to the ground in a heap, dead.

Before he could do any more damage, John felt a strong grip on his ankle that sent him crashing to the ground, hitting his head on the hard wooden floor. John yelled as the pain splintered through his head his sword clattering to the side now as the gargantuan man tackled him, moving in for blows to his face. John held up his hands to his head in defense, his body struggling to get the immense weight off him. His knees kicking back into the giant's back as he fought. Large hands pummeled him then went in for the kill, squeezing around his neck now, slowly cutting off his oxygen.

John's hand grasped at the strong fingers trying to pry them off, his other hand desperately reaching for his sword now, if he could only have longer fingers. His vision was peppered by dark spots now, his world slowly beginning to spin as his movements slowed. He would die of asphyxiation here in the galley of some unknown ship. Where was Jim? Could the other man really be waiting for him to die? John wondered

"H-H-Help…" he struggled to speak now, giving up his search for his sword as both hands clutched to his neck, his incessant kicking had long since stopped and John feared this would be the last.

' _No…Please…help…this can't be it. I don't want to die._ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys thanks for reading this new chapter! Yayy it's finally SATURDAY! I can finally take a break and post my stuff and write more :) Do leave me a comment guys and i'll see you in the next chapter.


	23. Jim & Sherlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so here's the new chapter, i do hope that you guys will like it. Do leave me a comment to tell me what you guys liked :) Happy reading and i'll see you in the next chapter.

Just as quickly as the hands that grasp at his neck were there, they are gone again and John's airways are free again. John drags air into his lungs, the sweet relief coursing through his body as he lies there on the wooden boards, panting. His vision clears slowly and as he lies there he sees Jim looking down on him, cutlass dripping with blood, the head of the gargantuan man held in one hand by his hair. "I don't know what Sherlock was thinking taking you on his ship. You can barely fight," Jim muttered sheathing his cutlass as he offered a hand to him.

John grabbed the outstretched hand, pulling himself up with Jim's help, still a little unsteady from the lack of oxygen just moments before, "You could have arrived sooner," John murmured, his hands going to touch his bruised neck, it was still tender to the touch from the man's hold.

Jim rolled his eyes at the doctor's statement, "There were two of them against one of me. I was out numbered. I thought you could hold out on your own against them…turns out you're much more useless than I'd thought."

"Useless? If you wanted me to die you could have just killed me yourself you know?" John says staring at Jim, he doesn't trust a word the man says, after all Jim had no reason to help him if he didn't want to and being alone together like this, no one would know if Jim killed him and claimed it to be an accident or something else. Jim had probably been a pirate as long as Sherlock, how could he not take down two men easily?

Laughter escaped from between the captain's lips, "Killing you wouldn't serve me any purpose except maybe to put this whole project to a halt. Then I'd be on the losing side, because when Sherlock dies…" Jim trailed off, shaking his head now, "never mind that. Get the bodies and toss them overboard. Then we'll wait for Moran to come back with the crew."

John watched as the captain of the  _Mauvais Ange_ walked back up the way they had came, a head and a body in tow, he followed suit, grabbing the body of the tall lanky man who's chest he'd sliced, slowly trudging his way up the stairs, before he could catch Jim at the rails of the ship, the other was hurrying back down into the galley. John hefted the deadweight onto his shoulder then tipped the body over the side watching as the body splashed into the still black waters, the surface fading back to mere ripples as the body sank forgotten to the ocean's floor.

Back in the galley, John watched as Jim hefted another body onto his shoulder, "Wouldn't you be on the winning side if anything happened to Sherlock?" John asked testing waters as he lifted the last body onto his shoulder, following Jim up the stairs now and onto the main deck.

"Do you even know what happened between Sherlock and me? Did he ever tell you?" Jim asked tossing the body over to the side as he leaned against the rail, watching John struggle and not lifting a hand to help.

_Typical._ John thought. "No…he never mentioned you once…" John said, shoving the last of the crew off the side of the ship.

Jim nodded, "Just as I thought. He wouldn't want you to know about it."

"About what?" John asked, curiosity piqued now. Had they really been lovers as John had imagined?

"Sherlock and I were together once upon a time. Not as close as you two are now but, yes we were together nonetheless. We commandeered a ship together back then, a whole ship and a crew that served under us both. Irene was our second in charge and we the captains," Jim paused now shaking his head, "We must've been stupid to think two captains can govern one ship. One already being Pirate King, the other, just a commoner from a small town in London."

"Sherlock was a Pirate King even back then?" John asked.

Jim nodded, "It's sort of like a lineage kind of thing. Anyway…I didn't like that the crew mostly listened to him, he was a born leader and he had so much charisma. I got sick and tired of being in his shadow, of him always thinking that I was weak," he paused here, looking to John, "So I betrayed him with Moran's help when I met him. I sailed away from port when they were still in town, took the crew as my own, Irene and all. I left Sherlock and his brother stranded without a penny to their name in Tortuga to fend for themselves. Knowing the Pirate King, he could get anything done… I could have left him all alone…yet I was kind enough to leave him Mycroft."

"You shouldn't have left him in the first place," John muttered, it felt to him that he was the one intruding now, like it was his fault that the two weren't together.

"Don't beat yourself too badly over that. I don't love Sherlock like you do…or at least I don't anymore," Jim assured the other, a little façade that no one would know, only he himself would know where his heart lies.

From out of nowhere there was the soft hooting of an owl in the night.

"Are there owls out here?" John asked, he didn't know Bélem had owls near the docks.

Jim laughed just a little at John's words, shaking his head in response, "It's a signal Seb and I use to communicate over long distances."

John watched as Jim pursed his lips cupping his hand to his mouth as he called back. John didn't know what exactly they were saying between themselves with the long and short calls of an owl. He guessed that Moran might be back with a crew, or at least he hoped as much.

"Come, Seb's got a crew ready, time to check them out and at the same time welcome them aboard our ship," Jim said pushing off the railing now as he walked across the deck, John following behind as they descended the gangplank to meet Moran and their would be crew.


	24. Making Choices

John stood with Jim and Moran as they checked off each of the pirates' names on a list that Moran had made. Jim seemed to be satisfied with the group that Moran had chosen, they all seemed to be strong enough and healthy too. No sign of scurvy or any other diseases.

"Well done Seb, you know just the kind that I would approve of," Jim murmured to the tall blond, leaning in to give him a peck on the cheek now as the pirates gathered on the deck of the ship.

Jim took to the helm now, standing at the rails as he surveyed the crew, "You lucky men, have been chosen by fate's hand to join a mission that is to save the Pirate King," he said watching as heads turned and the group of men started to murmur to one another. Jim cleared his throat, reminding them that he was still there, "It is under my lead that you will go into this mission. You will follow everything that I say, you will carry out all the tasks that I wish you to perform and you will listen to these two," Jim said indicating both John and Moran that stood at his sides.

"Moran here is my second in command. Ex-militant, convicted of crime," Jim said, then he pointed to John, "and this here, is John Watson. He's the ship's doctor and not to mention the Pirate King's property," Jim added for security measures, he didn't want anything to happen to the man that might cause Sherlock some sort of hurt in one way or another. He didn't want Sherlock to suffer, that's what he told himself but he knew that it was because of the goodness of his heart, or whatever goodness that was left of it.

"Moran see to it that they are settled in nicely. Get them to work. Have one of them check the hold and take stock of our supplies, both in food and weaponry. Whatever we're short on we'll head to Tortuga to stock up on. It's a day or two's journey from here," Jim said to Moran who nodded and turning, took to the main deck to carry out his duties.

"John, you, you're coming with me to the captain's cabin now, we're going to need to plan to get to England…and subsequently how to get Sherlock and the gang out of there," Jim said as he led John into the Captain's cabin.

In England many many miles away from the port of Bélem, the  _Terminus_ had pulled into the Royal Navy Docks and the pirates from the  _Bel Ange_ were being unloaded. They had lost a couple of crewmates to scurvy and to Anderson's temper. Lestrade kept his hold around Sherlock, his arm around the captain's slender waist, the other supporting Sherlock from behind as they stepped of the ship. In the weeks that had come to pass on the ship, Sherlock's condition had deteriorated rapidly. His fever had made him lose consciousness and he'd not eaten much.

Every time he was offered something to eat he would just shake his head and offer it to someone else. With the captain giving away his portions of food to save others and with no doctors or medication on the ship, Lestrade feared for the worse as they docked.

"Sherlock I'll make sure that bastard gets you some medication alright?" Lestrade said as he shifted the captain.

He himself had no idea what had happened to Sherlock. One moment the captain had been fine, the next, he'd been falling in and out of consciousness with a fever. Mrs. Hudson had run her cure on Sherlock to keep the fever down, a cold cloth on Sherlock's forehead and Laudanum that Molly had stolen from one cupboard in the galley. The laudanum cured Sherlock's headaches most of the time and it sent him into a peaceful sleep free of hallucinations. The thing was Laudanum had a high content of morphine and an overdose would cause instantaneous death. So sometimes, the crew would have to watch as their captain suffered through the nights.

"You're looking mighty fine aren't you Pirate King?" Anderson taunted. Medication would be wasted on this man, after all, he was due to hang in about a few weeks time. What was a little more suffering?

"It's your fault he's like this!" Lestrade growled as he glared at the man that controlled the Company. He was cruel to the bone, to have turned Sherlock into nothing more than a person that seemed to be part of the living dead.

"Don't worry, we'll have to prolong his," Anderson waved a hand in an overall gesture, "condition just for awhile more with some mild medications. By the end of that he'll be dying to be at the end of a hang man's noose."

"Bastard!" Lestrade growled as he shifted Sherlock, throwing a punch at Anderson, hitting the man squarely in the jaw. "You fucking deserved that," he growled as he stormed on past Anderson who merely stood, with a flick to his suit, grabbing his chin. He didn't even look at Mycroft, his former ally, as they were transferred into their new cells and he was once more separated from their captain.

Lestrade sat, his back against the wall. He was scruffy from weeks of not shaving and he smelt bad. He looked for something in the cell, something sharp enough that he could use to carve a mark into the wall as he began counting the days again. He needed to keep track of that at least, or he too would go insane. In the cell next to his, Molly, Mrs. Hudson and Donovan were thrown in together. Soon the rest of the cells were all filled up and the jailer left, the keys turning in the lock.

"Where did they take Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked as she moved closer to the bars that were between Lestrade's cell and theirs.

He shook his head, " I don't know. I don't even know if he can make it on his own. You saw him. He was so pale…what if…" he trailed off putting his head in his hands. He didn't care if he died, but if Sherlock died…who would lead them? Where would they go even if John did manage to save them?

"Did they mention giving him medicine or letting a doctor treat him?" Molly asked.

"Mild medications are all they're going to give him. Anderson said he wanted to ensure Sherlock would want to go to his death or something like that. I punched him square in the jaw," Lestrade said with a triumphant twinkle in his eye. It wasn't every day that they had victories and small ones like these were considered a great deal now.

"Someone's coming," Donovan alerted them and they all fell silent again as the clanking of keys sounded followed by the creaking of the door. A man came into the prison, carrying a lantern now. He stopped right outside of Lestrade's cell.

"Lestrade, I need to talk with you," the man said.

He looked up, there by the flames of the lantern stood Mycroft. The betrayer. He scoffed, "I have nothing I want to say to you. I don't speak with people of the Company."

"Greg, this is serious. I mean it. It's involving Sherlock."

"Don't act like you care Mycroft. You didn't give a shit when he was sick. You barely lifted a finger to help. You betrayed him into the hands of his killer and you still claim that you are his brother!"

"I want to help him," Mycroft said as he unlocked Lestrade's cell, holding it open.

"You've done enough to help Mycroft. You've done enough," he muttered, defeated. How could this man truly think that he would trust him ever again after he sold them out like it was nothing? He'd sold his own brother out for money. He was nothing but a greedy man.

"I have enough money now to buy medicine, good, proper medicine for Sherlock. It can cure him. We can take him to see a doctor. We can cure him."

"And why do you care only now?" Lestrade asked as he stood, staring Mycroft squarely in the eyes.

Guilt made the other man turn away as he spoke, "I've done something gravely wrong. I wasn't thinking and…I want to make it right again. Sherlock is my brother, do you think I can bare to see him die?" Mycroft asked.

"You sure had no qualms about that the first time," Lestrade growled as he stepped closer to Mycroft.

"I had no choice. I was in too deep to pull out. I was fighting for my life. It was either him or me. I am the Pirate King's brother."

"So you decided to sell him out?" Lestrade asked shaking his head, disappointed. "I didn't think you were capable of that."

"That's in the past Greg! I'm making a choice now. I'm going to make sure that Sherlock gets treated."

"If I find out otherwise Mycroft, I'm going to fillet you, you hear?" he growled as he followed the man out of the cells, casting his last glance in the general direction of the cell that the women were held in. If anything…he didn't want this to end as it had with Irene Adler, the woman that had helped John to get away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so here's the next chapter for this story! I do hope that you guys liked it, do leave me a comment after you've read, they are much appreciated :) I'll see you in the next chapter.


	25. Malaria

"Well, what's the matter with him?" Lestrade asked the doctor that Mycroft had hired. He knew as soon as the man came out of the room with a face as long as that, that the news was not good indeed.

"It's a case of malaria, followed by his hallucinations. It might have just started out as just a cold, which is why you probably never noticed the symptoms but its gone and spread, becoming a full blown attack on his body now," the doctor advised as they stood in the door way.

"What can you do to cure him?" Lestrade asked looking to where Mycroft sat on the bed, bent over Sherlock, changing the cloth again.

"We could have him bled to clear the diseased blood. But according to his brother, he hasn't been eating properly so the process might prove fatal. You should continue giving him laudanum. It should reduce the pain in his head and if the fever should get worse, you can have him take a cold bath. You have to keep him in a clean environment if he is to pull through malaria without attaining any extra respiratory problems."

Lestrade shook his head. Did the doctor even know what the hell he was talking about? He began to question if he had even gone to medical school like John had. Oh if only John were here…he would know how to cure Sherlock.

"I'm sorry I cannot do more for him," the doctor said as Lestrade led him out and shut the door behind him. He took the stairs back up to the room in the tower. They were keeping the captain in the most secure jail, the Tower, where security was tight and barely anyone that got in ever managed to get out again. It was a place where criminals were kept and if Lestrade had anything to say in this, it would be Anderson that would have to be locked up in here and not Sherlock.

"You heard what the doctor had to say didn't you? It's all my fault…" Mycroft whispered as he hung his head.

Lestrade almost by instinct went to sit by Mycroft's side. He didn't have anything to say, no taunt or witty comeback. They both suffered here, they were about to lose someone precious to them.

"It isn't your fault. You can change it. You can be the one to look after Sherlock. After all you're the only one with access to this tower and Anderson trusts you enough…" Lestrade muttered as he stood now, ready to go, "You should take me back to my cell before Anderson notices…"

Truth be told Mycroft didn't want Lestrade to leave. He wanted to spend just a little bit more time with the other, it seemed that Greg Lestrade was his moral compass and it was only with him that he could do the right thing. "Lestrade…I want you to know that I'm sorry," he said as he took the other man back to his prison.

"Mycroft, you shouldn't be apologizing to me. It's Sherlock you wronged the most if anyone," he muttered.

Mycroft reached to grab Lestrade by the arm, stopping the other man in his tracks now, "If anything, I betrayed your trust and I'm sorry for that."

Lestrade turned to face the other now, his eyes staring hard at the older man, "Don't keep apologizing Mycroft," he muttered as he found himself leaning in, his head resting on the man's shoulder. "It's Anderson's fault. Anderson and the Company. You merely got caught up in it all."

* * *

"I don't see how that's going to work," John said as he looked over the map that served as the layout for the prison grounds. They had so many guards and walls to get through and it was only about a handful, forty-five of them at least not counting those that might not have made it through the journey on the  _Terminus_.

Jim rolled his eyes, clearly John was still very naïve, either that or he doubted his prowess, "Alright," he said as he cleared his throat ready to begin again, "look here, the Company prison has two walls. Only the first one, that is the outer wall is guarded. They have no more than twenty guards patrolling the walls at all times and that small number is enough for us to take out, saying we combine our crew of fifty strong with Sherlock's forty-five strong we'd have more than ninety strong. Enough to raid the premises and get out of there alive. But why waste human resources when I can always make them turn a blind eye."

"How are you planning on achieving that? Those soldiers are part of the company aren't they?" John asked.

Jim shook his head once more, "Pirate?" Jim reminded him, "Those soldiers all have a family to go back to don't they? Threaten their family, or say we give them even more than what the Company gives them and see whose side they'll turn to. It's simple."

"Do you always do this? Buy your way around and stuff?" John asked as he studied the map closely. Each cross marked the station of a guard and as he measured the distance from the cell blocks to the walls, he began to think that buying their way out of this was the best solution that there was.

"As I say, in the world of locked rooms the man with the key is king. If you've got the money and power who will not bow down to you?" Jim questioned now as Moran came into the cabin with their latest update on the course of their sailing.

"If all goes well we should be able to reach England in four days time," Moran said as he took his place standing beside Jim. "I have news as well. For you, John Watson," the ex militant man said as he turned to him.

"What is it about?" John asked, he wasn't as fearful of the man as he had used to be back when they had first met on the docks in Brazil.

"Sherlock has contracted Malaria," Moran said.

John didn't know how long he sat there in silence, taking in the information, Malaria…had he been cured? Could he be cured? Would he die? How was he now? So many questions raged through his head and John wished so hard that he had never been separated from Sherlock in the first place.

"Hey. Sherlock will be fine," Jim said reaching across the table to place his hand on John's, "He's stronger than anyone that I've known and so far I've never ever seen him get sick this badly. He'll be fine I assure you. You can't let that get in the way alright? You have to believe that he will be fine and you can save him," Jim said. The words he uttered he knew would have no effect on John, after all a lover could only not worry when he was right there, physically beside the person he loved, yet it was better than not trying at all.

That night before going to bed, John knelt down beside his bed, and clasping his hands together he prayed to whatever god that might be merciful and hear him. "Please, please let Sherlock be alright. Let him live…please," he whispered repeating those lines over and over as tears fell from his eyes, the pain in his heart unbearable, it was like nothing he had ever felt. This overwhelming sense of loss engulfed him and fear tightened his throat as strangled sobs echoed in the emptiness of his room. It was in this way, that John Watson was claimed by sleep, tired, exhausted and worrying for the one he loved the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys, i hope you enjoyed this chapter, i know i haven't kept to my uploading schedule at all, but i do hope that you guys will understand i'm having alot of projects now and i actually have two weeks off but it's almost as though i don't have a break at all. *sigh* well, thanks for reading and i do hope you can leave me a comment. See you in the next chapter! :)


	26. Prison

Four days later the  _Revenge_ was anchored in the docks nearest to the Royal Navy Docks. She had been disguised to look like a normal trading ship, just so that she wouldn't raise any suspicion as she entered the port. From the deck of the  _Revenge_  John spotted the  _Terminus_ , she appeared to have been docked there for days as her sails had been taken down and there was not a soul on board. Right beside her was the  _Bel_ Ange, her sails were drawn down and she seemed sullen. He handed the spyglass back to Jim now, the man folding the instrument up and tucking it into the breast pocket in his coat.

They were all disguised in different clothes, John had been given the smart disguise of a doctor complete with a wig that had also been given to him by Jim alter his appearance even further since Anderson had seen him before. "Alright, here," Jim said as he handed John a key, "this is the master key to all the cells in the prison. You just need to find where the crew is and you can give the key to Lestrade. Moran and I will leave the crates of weapons closest to their cells and cover it with tarpaulin, that way the soldiers that enter will think it's no more than storage crates."

"How am I going to find them?" John asked, he wasn't so sure that he might be able to pull this guise off at all.

"Use your intuition John! I'm sure you're smart enough to come up with something," Jim said as they stood at the gangway now.

"Alright. Well, I'm going now then," John said as he turned and made his way down.

"Take care now Johnny boy!"

As John neared the central area, posters were plastered to walls and lampposts. Posters that announced the hanging of pirates, as John looked, he saw the faces of the crew, Lestrade, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, Donovan. And as the posters went, the main even would be the hanging of the Pirate King, Sherlock Holmes, right under his name was a drawn picture of the man, a stunningly beautiful drawing of someone that would be killed in less than twenty four hours time.

John's eyes caught the timing of the hanging, it would be at noon the following day. They had arrived just on time, thank the gods and they had at least a fighting chance in this battle. He took a turn on the next street now as he shifted the bag in his hand. John steeled his nerves now as he approached the Company jail, the soldiers halting him now. It seemed Jim had timed it right, it was the just about the time when they changed patrols in the afternoon and as Jim had mentioned it would be easier for him to sneak around on the inside. But John had something else planned, instead of sneaking around he would enter right through the prison's doors.

"Halt! What is your business here sir?" the soldier asked, his rifle primed at the ready beside him. John had no doubt that the soldier had orders to shoot a John Watson if he arrived here.

In a rather haughty voice, John spoke now, "I am Leidvig Steinhausser, doctor from the Medical Academy. I'm here to check in on the pirates that are to be hanged tomorrow. The Company had asked me to take measurements of them for the hangman's noose."

The soldier looked him up and down suspiciously and John had to maintain his cool. "Can I see your papers?" the soldier asked and John did as he was told, opening up the bag and taking out the necessary documents that would prove his identity and his partnership with the Company. Of course the papers had been forged, courtesy of Jim Moriarty, as a precaution he had said and there was never any Leidvig Steinhausser to begin with.

"You may pass. They are being held in the first block to the right, you shouldn't be able to miss it. I'm sorry I won't be able to escort you there at the moment but if anything should happen, please do not hesitate to call out for help."

"Thank you! I appreciate your help," John nodded as he tucked his papers back under his arm, striding of in the direction that the soldier had told him off. After counting up to twenty, he turned back once finding the coast clear, and he pursed his lips, making the sound of an owl. From somewhere else another owl replied and John told it of his location before he stepped into the block of cells.

John dropped the bag he was carrying as his eyes quickly scanned the cells now searching frantically for either Sherlock or Lestrade. He took the stairs to the second level of the cell block and just as he was about to turn the corner, he heard Lestrade's voice calling to him, "John! John Watson?"

John's heart skipped a beat, he was so relieved to finally be reunited with the crew, he dropped to his knees before Lestrade's cell. "Thank god Lestrade!" John cried as he hugged the other through the cell bars.

"How the hell did you get in here and what's with the look?" Lestrade asked as John moved to the other cell to greet Molly, Mrs. Hudson and Donovan.

"Jim's idea. Listen, I don't have much time the guard change only takes awhile. Here," he says as he hands Lestrade the master key, "It's Jim's copy of the master key to this cell block you should be able to get everyone out," John explained as he was soon joined by Jim and Moran both of which were carrying crates.

"This here's your weapons," Jim said as he set down the crate, going over to the cells now, "I've bought over all the guards taking care of this block. Tomorrow before you are taken down to the central square, you will have a window period of about ten minutes to get your weapons before you are loaded onto the coach. All you need to do after that is to wait for the signal, that owl sound you heard earlier. That's the one."

John had circled the whole prison during the time that Jim was explaining and there was no sight of Sherlock in any one of the cells, "Lestrade, where's Sherlock?" he asked. Watching as the other fell silent now.

"They've taken him to the Tower Prison…he's…down with malaria you know…" Lestrade said.

"Where is the tower prison?" John asked, needed to know, if he could infiltrate that as well he would go without wasting a moment.

"It's where they keep the worst lot of the criminals, its closer to the square if I'm not wrong. But you can't get in…" Lestrade said, "you can't get in without help."

At this John turned to Jim who was already signaling to him to get out of the place, "Lestrade, was he alright when you last saw him?" John asked as he lingered there, needing to know more about Sherlock.

"Mycroft is looking after him. He promised me he would," Lestrade said.

"And Irene?" John asked as he turned his back, watching for a guard as Jim called to him again.

"Irene…is dead. Anderson killed her and had her body dumped at sea after he found out that she had helped you out. He doesn't suspect that she told you about Jim, so he won't be expecting a retaliation!" he called from his cell as he watched John leave the cellblock as he had come. In and out without a trace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys i hoped you liked this new chapter, do leave me a comment it will really make my day. I'm a little bogged down with projects now and it's supposed to be my break! This is preposterous! Oh well, see you guys in the next chapter!


	27. Dead of Night

Sherlock opens his eyes, the room he's in is dark. It's probably night time. He tries to pull himself up into a sitting position but fails. Closing his eyes, he remains lying on his back in bed. He has no idea where he is at all. He can't remember much. Opening his eyes again, he looks to his left. There he sees his brother, Mycroft, asleep in a chair in the corner of what his mind deems to be a cell. Why is his brother here? The traitorous bastard who sold him up to Anderson, he still can't forget that moment.

_'Survival of the fittest Sherlock…'_

Once again he tries hard to pull himself into a sitting position and fails. He curls up on his side, his eyes settling on the still sleeping form of Mycroft. Sherlock slowly drags in a ragged breath. He knows this much, that he has fallen ill. That he is a prisoner of the Company, a prisoner of Anderson. He knows that somewhere out there right now, John Watson is trying to help them. Though where is John? He has taken too long…too long that people have been lost.

Sherlock remembers the few crew members that had fallen sick on board the ship and died. Their bodies had been thrown overboard at sea. He remembers another person being thrown overboard…who is it…Irene. Yes, Irene Adler. The woman who betrayed him then betrayed Anderson to help him. She had been found out about helping John to escape. Exposed for giving him some cash and for that she had been killed. Shot and then her body dumped at sea. The fever is raging through his body and Sherlock pushes the covers off his body, his head is throbbing.

"John…" he whispers his voice so soft in the room, "where are you?" he murmurs as he closes his eyes again. The worse scenarios cross his mind. That John is dead. No one can save them. No one will save him. He sees himself dangling from the end of the hangman's noose, the strong wind blowing his body in a wayward direction. He is dead. The fear that the image brings is so immense that he begins to sob silently. The hot tears falling down his cheeks. He is helpless. Without his health, without John.

"John…" he calls once again, his voice cracking. He is not the glorious Pirate King. He is not the fearless Pirate King. He is only human and he is at the end of his life.

"Tomorrow's the day John…" he whispers as he lets his Malaria induced sleep claim him once more, falling unconscious once again.

* * *

 

"John you can't go in to the Tower on your own," Jim said as he stared at the man who sat across the table from him, "They've got too tight a security. You'll just be throwing away you life. I don't need another dead body on my count," at that John put his head in his hands.

"He's going to die! We don't know if they've even treated him from his Malaria!" John said as he slammed the table. He had always been patient but he couldn't do that now because this involved the life of the man he loved.

"Lestrade said he had Mycroft look after him didn't he? You don't have to worry."

"You trust Mycroft?" John growled as he began to pace the cabin of the ship they were in.

"No one said I trusted him," Jim muttered as he looked over the map once more, "Look, we need to trust that Sherlock is still alive. That he will make it. See this?" Jim said pointing to the map.

"The Square. That's where they've set up the scaffolding for the hanging," John said as he came over to the table now, looking at the map of the place that Moran had managed to take from the guard room at the jails.

"It's an open area. There are buildings surrounding it. It'll be an easy target," Moran said as he circled his finger around the area of the Square, "They won't expect a retaliation. The most they'll have is a few dozen guards."

"So," Jim continued as he moved a marker on to the map, making it stand on one of the buildings, "Moran will be the sniper. He'll be right at the top of the building that faces the Square. He can take out anything and anyone from there. Since they want the Pirate King dead we can only assume that he'll be the first to hang. That gives us more support so we can release the crew to have them help us in our fight."

John's eyes scanned the map, fixating on the tower in the north, "They'll be bringing him in from there," he said as he trailed his finger down the marked path to the square, "Can't we intercept him from the moment they bring him out? Wouldn't it be better?"

Jim shook his head, "Too dangerous. Anderson is bound to want to ensure his death. He'll have every guard he can get keeping eyes on Sherlock. That carriage they take down to the Square will be the trap that you walk into," Jim said, "If anything, Anderson will be waiting there with Mycroft in tow and you can bet you'll not come out of there alive."

"Then what the hell do you suggest?" John asked. He was frustrated that his ideas kept being gunned down one by one. It was looking as though there would be no hope to get to Sherlock.

"We wait for him to get hanged," Jim murmured.

John's eyes widened at the very sentence, "Jim, what the hell do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said," he replied holding out his hand to calm the other, "But this will be different. You see the scaffolding, there are guards surrounding the platform at least seven of them. On the platform itself there will be only the hangman and Sherlock. Once the hangman puts the noose on him and opens the trap door that's where Moran will shoot and Sherlock will not hang."

"No." John said shaking his head, "The distance is too far. If the bullet doesn't cut through the rope Sherlock will die in seconds. Besides you can't be that sure about shooting from such a distance and you haven't even factored in the wind should there be any tomorrow."

Moran threw his rifle onto the table then scattered his bullets there, "Trust me. I can shoot from that distance and," he rummaged around in his pocket drawing out a few other bullets he showed them to John, "I don't think gold bullets are easily affected by the wind do you?"

John looked from Moran to the rifle, to the golden bullets then back at the ex-militant. The jagged pink scar across his face seemed to show John just enough that the man had had lots of experience. Yet, he still didn't trust him or Jim Moriarty any more for that matter. Who knew if Jim really wanted Sherlock alive? But he nodded his head anyway, "Alright. We'll stick to the plan," this was as far as he could get on his own and he knew he would definitely need both Jim and Moran's help.

"Good. Once Sherlock drops through the platform that's where you come in. Make sure you're in the front row of the scaffolding. Once he's down, break through, get Sherlock and get out. Whatever happens to the crew or anything, don't care about it. Just head back to the docks, back to the  _Revenge_. We'll be headed back there as well when we're done. If need be, cast off from the dock and head for the cove near by and wait there," Jim said.

"Understood," John muttered as he took note of the stations on the map again. The plan needed to go right, especially the shot from Moran, if not, Sherlock would be dead and all this would have been done in vain.

* * *

 

That night as the city slept, a shadow rose from the waves. A little boat came in to the dock. Amongst the huge ships, it was nothing. No one noticed it at all. From the boat, came a small circle of illumination from the lantern at the head. The person in the boat tied it to one of the pillars there, leaving the oars in it's place, the figure climbed out of the boat, taking the lantern.

"Anderson, I'm back from the dead," the figure whispered, luscious lips curling into a wicked little grin as the figure headed towards the Square.

The Square where the final battle between the Company and the pirates were to be waged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so here's the new chapter! I hope you do enjoy it and leave me a comment to tell me what you liked about it! I'll be seeing you in the next chapter! Also...my break is over and I'm back in school again! :( Wish me luck!


	28. Brothers

As the sun began to rise, the city began to bustle with activity once more. The darkness of night was being chased away by the rays of the sun and with a new day, the end of a pirate's life drew nearer. As if the sun itself knew, the early morning's sunrise was red, as red as blood. It was as though the heavens were bleeding on this particular morning. Straightening his cravat, Anderson slicked back his hair, checking himself once more in the mirror before he stepped outside. He was helped into the carriage that was waiting for him before it started off headed for the Tower Prison where the Pirate King was being held.

Today was the day. His big day. With the capture of the Pirate King, it meant that he would be given a higher status and with the recently claimed Pirate King's treasure given to him, he had nothing to want for anymore. A good title, gold lined pockets, possibly a new house and in addition to the Company at his command, the Royal Navy. Anderson smiled, "This is going to be so much fun," he murmured as they stopped outside the Tower Prison now and he was helped down from the carriage. He was in such a good mood that he would even allow the Malaria stricken Pirate King to have his last ride in his own personal carriage.

"Sherlock," someone was calling him, who was it? "Sherlock." There it was again, through the raging heat of the fever he opened his eyes to see none other than Mycroft beside him.

"Hurry you have to drink this," Mycroft was saying as he held a spoon to his lips and tried to feed him something bitter. Sherlock didn't want that, he didn't want to drink it and he let it dribble down his chin. Mycroft immediately dabbed at it, setting the bottle of laudanum and the spoon down on the bedside table. Sherlock wasn't going drink it, "Don't do this Sherlock," he whispered as he cradled his brother close to his chest. "You have to drink it, please," he said as he poured another round, lifting Sherlock's head and putting the spoon to his lips, this time only a little passed Sherlock's lips before the rest dribbled out again.

Again Mycroft dabbed at the spillage, setting the medication back down. He proceeded to ready a basin of cool water and a cloth as he began to wipe Sherlock down. "Mycroft…" he heard Sherlock rasp as he was cleaning him, "I…love you…" he heard as Sherlock whispered and his younger brother fixed him with those blue grey eyes, a smile on his pale lips, "I forgive…you."

At that a sob escaped the man's lips as tears began to cloud his eyes. How could he have been so stupid? So stupid as to choose power over his own brother? Swiping at his tears he quickly buttoned Sherlock' clothes back up, taking a comb as he brushed through Sherlock's tangled mess of black hair, "I'm so sorry," he whispered as he held Sherlock in his arms now, feeling his brother's body burning in his arms because of the Malaria. Mycroft leaned in close pressing his lips into Sherlock's hair, "I'm so, so sorry…" his whispered over and over as he stayed there cradling Sherlock to him, waiting for Anderson's arrival that would mean Sherlock's imminent death.

"How's my Pirate King on this fine morning hmm?" Anderson asked as he strolled into the room, "I see you kept him under surveillance Mycroft," Anderson murmured as his eyes fell to the laudanum bottle, "been taking care of your sick little brother have you?"

Mycroft didn't answer, he only held Sherlock to him as he looked at Anderson.

"Come now, you were so close Mycroft. Don't you want the money? The fame that you'll get when Sherlock is dead? Do you want to live in his shadow forever? You'll never be remembered that way." Anderson said.

"He's my brother," Mycroft whispered as he glared at Anderson now, "I won't let you take him from me."

Anderson heaved a great mocking sigh, "Guards!" he called at which more of the Company soldiers came into the room.

"I'm giving you a chance here Mycroft, give Sherlock over to me now and we'll share the benefits. Or," Anderson said as the soldiers tightened the circle around the Holmes' brothers, "don't hand Sherlock over to me and you will end up hanging as well."

Mycroft looked down at the now unconscious Sherlock, his brother. His flesh and blood. It had taken him too long to realize that and now Sherlock's life was on the brink. He would never forgive himself if his brother died. "You can't have him," Mycroft growled as he drew his pistol, aiming for Anderson as he fired, the round missed the man and the Company soldier's were on him in seconds tearing him away from Sherlock now as they roughly took his brother, chained him and, beating him awake forced him to walk down to the carriage.

Anderson lingered on in the tower room now, shaking his head as he tutted, "Mycroft. I didn't think you would do this. You made the biggest mistake of your life. Turning on me. I thought I could trust you after Irene. You proved to have potential. So much potential…but look at you, you're no better than Irene," he said as he turned from the room.

"Guards, chain him and bring him down to the carriage. He's to hang as well, but after Sherlock. I want him to watch as Sherlock dies. I want him to know that it was his fault his darling little brother is dead."

Amongst the crowd that had begun to gather, John had sneaked into the front few rows, true enough around the area of the scaffolding were a handful of guards. At least eight as he counted their heads now, they were armed with spears and two pistols strapped into their belts. John propped himself up on the cane that he had brought along, shifting the hood out of his view so that it didn't obstruct his vision.

He looked to the east of the Square where the other pirates were being held. Lestrade and the gang were there, held in a huge transport jail cell. Near the cell was someone who looked pretty enough to be a woman. But beneath all that makeup and layers of clothes, John knew better, that was Jim Moriarty in disguise. He was to help to free the crew. Scattered around the Square and blended in with the crowd were other members of the  _Revenge_  all in disguise so that no one would recognize them.

As John turned slightly he could see Moran situated right at top of the building that faced the Square. He had draped on clothes to blend in to the roof it was only if you knew the plan that you could be able to spot the slight difference in the shade of colour on the rooftop that would form the outline of a human. Everyone was in place now and John watched as the hangman stood on the platform straightening things out as the crowds began to grow now. People had come from far and wide to witness this hanging. The hanging of a man who had done no wrong. He had only ever bargained to get his treasure, he had used mere words, no force at all, only when it came to the Company did he ever draw his sword.

The clattering of wheels and the parting of the crowd signaled to John that someone had arrived and as he looked, right there, coming from the north was the carriage. From it came Anderson, Sherlock and Mycroft. John's heart skipped a beat at Sherlock's figure he looked so frail, so different that John nearly didn't recognize him. The Malaria had truly taken away all his previous vigor and even now, the soldiers had to help Sherlock to walk. What shocked John even more was that Mycroft was also in chains. He could only guess that Mycroft had been found out for trying to help Sherlock, to defend his own brother and he was now going to pay for it.

There was loud cheering from all around him and a strong grip on his arms was the only thing that kept him standing now. His head was pounding from all that cheering, "Shut up," he whispered, his voice too soft for anyone to hear as the cheering went on. He could only move his feet, one in front of another as he was forced up the wooden platform. He caught snippets of what was going on around him. Words broke through the haze in his head. Mycroft was going to hang because he had helped him. Sherlock tried to tell them that it was wrong but he could do nothing more than let the soldiers lead him forward, a lamb to the slaughter.

"The Great Sherlock Holmes, the Pirate King," Anderson announced, "today he shall be brought down from his throne. He shall be slain. First him and then the rest of piracy! The Company will track down all pirates to the very last of them. We will rid all of them. There shall be no mercy."

John's grip tightened on the cane that he held as he watched the scene unfolding before him, Anderson moving off to the side now. This is it. The plan was coming together. Slowly. Second by second. His eyes darted once more to where Moran was before he looked back onto the scaffolding. Sherlock stood over the trapdoor, swaying slightly as the Malaria raged through him. The hangman pulled a black cloth over Sherlock's head, checked the bindings on his hands and feet then brought the noose down. John's heart was beating faster now as the hangman checked the noose, ensuring that everything was in place.

He had to force himself to watch as the hangman brought the noose around Sherlock's neck, tightening it to make sure that it would ensure quick instantaneous death. John was shaking, he wanted to scream to run up the scaffold to save Sherlock now. But he had to wait. He had to follow the plan. Silently he uttered a prayer as he watched the hangman step away now, going over to the lever for the trapdoor.

The hangman's hand clenched around the wooden lever and John gulped, watching still as the hangman mustered all his strength and then pulled the lever, the trapdoor opening and Sherlock's body dropping through it as the noose tightened around his neck. He didn't even notice the scream that escaped his lips at that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so here's the next chapter up, i do hope that you guys liked it. Do leave me a comment to tell me what you liked about it and i'll see you guys in the next chapter. Also, i'm posting this in class! :) Ahaha :)


	29. Saving Sherlock

The sound of a rifle shot that followed John's scream broke through the tense silence of the morning.

All hell broke lose then as John scrambled through the line of defense, stabbing the first and second guards that came at him before he proceeded to where Sherlock lay beneath the platform. Alive. Moran's ability as a sharpshooter had proven true. Behind him the guards were dealing with a panicking crowd as the rest of the crew of the  _Revenge_ created a distraction. Quickly he severed the ropes that bound Sherlock's hands and feet and threw the noose that was around Sherlock's neck away along with the black cloth.

"Sherlock, it's me. It's John," John said as he peered into the pirate's face, "We need to run now," he said as he tried to get Sherlock to stand. The guards having already noted this had started to call in reinforcements and he could see as Anderson drew his own cutlass and was joining the fray now. John grasped Sherlock around the waist, looping his arm around his neck as he pulled his cutlass free with his right hand.

Single handedly he fought back the onslaught of guards and finally they gave way to Anderson.

"I must say I didn't expect you to come here leading a rebellion," Anderson growled as he thrust his sword at Sherlock.

John spun around, intercepting the blow instead as the cutlass pierced his arm, he grimaced as he pulled back, feeling warm blood spurt forth at the new wound. Just as Anderson was going to strike him again, another sword entered into the fray and pushed Anderson's back. The hooded figure drew its hood back and smiled at John.

It was Irene. She was alive.

"Irene! How could you!" Anderson yelled as his blade was intercepted by her, the woman with the lightning quick reflexes.

"Get out of here John," she said to him as she kept Anderson at bay now, a raging mad man.

Immediately John ran with a barely conscious Sherlock bearing him down. He weaved through the panic stricken crowd, not looking back as he headed for the docks. He could only hope that Irene, Jim, Moran and both the crew of the  _Revenge_ and the crew of the  _Bel Ange_  could make it out of here alive.

John kept to the back alleys and unused paths as he made his way towards the docks, stopping from time to time when he needed rest. He had taken to fully supporting Sherlock's weight now as he hefted the man onto his back once more, crossing the remaining distance back to the deck of the  _Revenge_. John lowered Sherlock to his bed and began scrambling around the ship to find ingredients to make tonic water that would cure Sherlock from his malaria.

He got together a bowl, a sieve, a jug, some spoons and a ladle, before he began to look for the ingredients that would make the tonic itself. He set about collecting limes, lemons, a jar of sugar, star anise and lemongrass. John collected a jug of fresh water from the barrels in the storage before he went back to the room. Sherlock lay on the bed, still unconscious. As John went through the ingredients he realized he was missing the most important ingredient, Chinchona bark. Cursing he stormed back down into the galley, searching through the kitchen as he kept his ears alert, listening for a sound above the rolling of the waves that might signal hostile troops.

The kitchen search came up with John empty handed and he found himself going down the ladder and into the hold where the cargo was. There had to be medical supplies here that contained Chinchona bark if not he would have to go back to one of the apothecary's in this town. Hanging the torch on one of the beams overhead he quickly got to searching for the final ingredient. That's when he heard shouts for him.

"John! John where are you!" came the shouts, he recognized the voice as Lestrade's and he dropped what he was doing as he went back on deck. Jim must have told him to head down this way. Once on deck he spotted Lestrade with a heavily wounded Mycroft.

"Over here!" John called as he went down the gangway to help them up now, "Where are the rest?" he asked.

"Jim said to pull out. The Company is headed in this direction," Lestrade panted as he lay Mycroft down on the deck, tearing off his shirt now as he assessed the damage, "He got hit badly, he's loosing too much blood," Lestrade said as he ripped the shirt to strips and tied them in tourniquets to prevent further blood loss.

"I haven't found the final ingredient to the tonic I'm making for Sherlock yet," John said as he began to pull in the anchor on his own Lestrade joining him as soon as he was done with Mycroft.

"We'll look for it once we dock at the cove," Lestrade said as he took to the helm now once the anchor was fully drawn, behind them, there was a loud splash as the gangplank fell into the waters at the dock, the Company soldiers that had begun to ascend being thrown into the sea. The three that had jumped on board, John and Lestrade shot down with ease.

"I'm going back down to search for it," John said as he climbed back down into the hold. He gathered more bandages for Mycroft's wounds that he would tend to later and as he began to search box after box for the Chinchona bark, he came away with less and less hope as they revealed some sort of ingredient that he did not need. He got to the box right at the bottom of the crate now and as he pulled back the cover his heart leapt with joy. Nestled in the yellow strands of hay were the hollow red barks of the Spanish originated ingredient. He counted there were at least five small barks in total. It would be enough to make many rounds of the tonic water. Quickly gathering up all his finds he headed back up on deck to find that Lestrade was getting ready to lower the anchors as they neared the cove.

Once they had safely dropped anchor in the cove, Lestrade moved Mycroft into the doctor's room. John was busy preparing the tonic and he didn't want to disturb him, "What do I do?" Lestrade asked John now as he watched the doctor crushing up a red bark to a fine powder, he could tell John was extremely worried for Sherlock's condition and he knew how much John would want to ensure Sherlock's health first which was why he offered to help in the first place, besides he felt that Mycroft was now sort of his responsibility.

"Keep the tourniquets in place. Take the tweezers over there, heat them up over a fire. Once that's done, you need to remove the bullets bit by bit if they're fragmented. Clean the wound with that," John said nodding at the salve on the top shelf, "after that's done bandage him up nice and good and then give him some laudanum to ease the pain," John instructed as he began to squish the lemons to extract the citric acid from them.

"Okay," Lestrade said he went of to do as instructed.

Silence fell over the small cabin as the two set about treating their patients. John stirred the mixture now as he held it over a flame, he had added extra Chinchona powder for the high quinine content that would help to ease the effects of the malaria. When the mixture turned into a syrup like consistency, John began to filter out the quinine particles, collecting the pure tonic syrup which he then added to a glass of warm water.

He moved over to the bed now, settling down beside Sherlock's body as he lifted the pirate's head, elevating his head with a pillow as he brought the glass to Sherlock's lips, tipping the glass to his lips. It was a failure as the mixture dribbled down the side of Sherlock's lips. He wasn't taking in any fluids. Determined to get him cured, John brought the glass to his lips, the bittersweet mixture making him shudder as he held it in his mouth and brought his lips to Sherlock's, feeding the man the tonic water as they kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so since you all wanted another chapter posted because of the cliffhanger the last time, here it is! I do hope that you guys liked it! Do leave me a comment! I'll try to post the next chapter soon, see you then!


	30. After the War

Sherlock could feel cool lips pressing to his and a bittersweet taste in his mouth as the lips fed him a foreign liquid. Involuntarily he swallowed and the lips pulled back from his. He wanted them back on his own again, but he was too tired to utter a word so he could only wait. The cool lips returned and he complied to the bittersweet taste once more swallowing the mixture quickly as he flicked his tongue against the other that had entered his mouth.

"God's Sherlock," John muttered shaking his head as his lips curled into a smile. Sherlock even in his malaria stricken state was fooling with him, "if you're well enough you better open your eyes," John whispered as he took in the mixture again and fed it to Sherlock with his mouth once more. Over his shoulder, Lestrade was wrapping up Mycroft's bandages when he woke up.

"Is Sherlock alright?" Mycroft asked, looking to Lestrade who was tightening the bandages across his chest, the man himself shirtless yet sustaining no cuts.

"He's fine," Lestrade said smiling as he moved aside nodding to across the room where John was still feeding Sherlock with some tonic water with his mouth.

"John…he had a plan all along?" Mycroft asked as he struggled to sit. He needed to thank his brother's savior.

"Hey, hey, you're not well enough yet," Lestrade said not allowing Mycroft up, "You guys can talk later, for now get some rest," he said, clearing the bloodied shirts and the shards of bullets from the bed side and going on deck now.

After John had fed Sherlock with the tonic, he prepared a cool cloth and placed it on Sherlock's forehead to ease the fever, "Rest well Sherlock, please wake up soon," he murmured as he leaned in to kiss Sherlock on the lips.

"John," he heard Mycroft call from the other bed and he crossed the small space over to the older brother's bedside.

"Thank you," Mycroft said, taking John's hand in his now, "Thank you for saving him."

Modestly John smiled slipping his hand away from Mycroft's "It's not just me. It was Jim's idea as well. It was mainly Jim's idea that saved us all," he stood at the side of Mycroft's bed, "get some rest. I'll come back later to check on you both. Also, I see Lestrade's done a very good job of being your doctor," John said with a little smirk as he left.

Back on deck, Lestrade was helping people back on deck from the little rowboat in the side. John joined him, seeing the faces of the crewmembers from the  _Revenge_ and from the  _Bel Ange_ alike. Behind the first rowboat came another and another, through it all John stayed to welcome them back on the deck of the ship. He was also keeping an eye out for Jim whom he worried about with each passing moment. As the final boat came into view John was startled at the sight. Jim was held in Moran's heavily wounded arms and despite that, Jim wasn't even hurt and Moran though heavily wounded was still conscious.

Once they had helped them on deck, they began to sort themselves out into the wounded, the majorly wounded and those that sustained minor injuries. John got to work, being the ship's doctor he taught Mrs. Hudson and Molly how to make simple poultices and help to bandage the wounded as well as to clean their wounds. Lestrade on the other hand took over the job of captain for the moment as he, a slightly wounded Sally Donovan and a barely scathed Irene began to put the ship in order and set sail for the Pirate haven of Tortuga first.

By evening, things had more or less settled and Jim had called for a meeting in the captain's cabin. Moran was resting in bed when they entered and John smiled at the ex-militant as he entered the cabin, "Thank you," he mouthed to the man as he went over to where Jim and the rest were gathered.

"Well, I'd say the mission was a complete success. We've got a ton of casualties but no deaths," Jim said with a smug little smile on his face as he sat there in the chair surveying the crowd that stood in his cabin, "All we need to do now is to give them some excuse. I'm sure I can pull something off."

"On top of that, the Company will dissolve in a matter of time with no leader," Irene added.

"You killed the bastard?" Lestrade piped up now.

"Shot him right through his beating heart," Irene said, "just as he nearly did to me."

"We all thought you were dead!" Lestrade said as he looked to the woman.

"Apparently not. I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I didn't want to be under Anderson's control after what he put me through. I decided against it," Irene stated as she walked up to the front now, "how I did it you may ask?" she said and unbuttoned the first few buttons of her shirt, showing off the metal breastplate below that was shaped to fit her body.

"It's a special bulletproof material and it's light," she said, "besides, now that Anderson's dead and with Mycroft out of the way, I've got a new ship and a heap of treasure" she added in a little sing song voice as she smiled innocently at them.

"You're not meaning to take the  _Bel Ange_ for yourself are you!" Lestrade growled as he took a step towards the woman, "Sherlock isn't even cured from his malaria and you want to just take his ship and his treasure like that?"

Irene laughed, "Sherlock owes me for helping him," she said.

"How about you split that treasure with me Irene?" Jim asked.

The brunette shook her head, "No can do Jim. I'm not a part of your crew any longer. I want my own ship and my own crew."

John was listening to the whole bickering of the crew and inside he felt a little warmth. This was his home now, it was where he belonged. Here on the high seas with the pirates, his family. He had finally found a place that he could call home. Still smiling he headed back across the deck to his cabin now. Mycroft had been shifted out from the extra bed courtesy of Lestrade and now it was just Sherlock and him. Sherlock the Pirate King and John the doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys! Thanks for reading the next chapter do leave me a comment to let me know if you enjoyed it, also i would like to tell you that we're almost at the end of this long long long story! Yayyy :)


	31. Together At Last

It was late at night when Sherlock stirred. The heavy pounding in his head was gone. He was still feeling hot though and he was hungry as a wolf. His forehead was cool and as he reached a hand to it he found a wet cloth on his forehead. Sherlock took it off his forehead and turned on his side to find John asleep, his head resting on the side of the bed, his hand holding onto his free hand. Sherlock smiled, John was here. John had come to rescue him. He squeezed John's hand back slightly, startled when the doctor opened his eyes to look at him.

"Hello John," Sherlock said as he smiled, his voice still a little raspy from the lack of use.

"Hey," John murmured as he squeezed Sherlock's hand back before pulling away and stretching where he was. He must have fallen asleep sitting on the floor of the cabin as he watched Sherlock sleep, "How are you feeling?" he asked as he stood now, taking the cloth from Sherlock's hand and going over to the basin to make cool it again.

"Better," Sherlock murmured as he looked up to John, pulling the doctor into his arms when he came back with the cool cloth and placed it on his forehead. He rested his head against John's stomach now, feeling the doctor's arms envelope him as well. "I missed you John. I thought I would die without you. The fever hurt so badly," Sherlock murmured as he felt John's hands stroking his back, comforting him. He could feel John's touch and he knew that it was all a reality. He smirked now as he urged John to sit in bed with him, "I'm hungry," Sherlock whispered, his lips by John's ear, "and I recall you kissing me when I slept."

John blushed at that, pushing away from Sherlock. The nerve of him to think about sex at such a time, "You're not fully recovered yet Pirate King," John said as he slipped out of Sherlock's arms, "let's get you something to eat in the galley before we talk any more," John said as he helped Sherlock out of bed, "as I recall it, you were the one who brushed your tongue against mine. You're incorrigible even when you're sick you have the nerve to do such a thing," John muttered, his lips curling into a smile as he helped Sherlock out on deck now.

"Where are we?" Sherlock ask as he looked around the ship. He didn't recognize it at all. It was unfamiliar to him. What had happened to the  _Bel Ange_?

"It's the  _Revenge_ ," John explained to Sherlock as they crossed the deck, headed down into the galley and into the kitchen area, "this is the ship Jim acquired to launch our rescue mission."

"It seems you succeeded," Sherlock murmured as he buried his lips in John's hair, breathing in his scent.

"Stop that," John muttered as he pulled up a stool and let Sherlock settle in now as he rounded the counter, "The  _Bel Ange_ is in Irene's possession now. That and your treasure that you used to buy my freedom," John said as he turned his back to Sherlock, preparing some warm milk for him now.

"She told you huh…" Sherlock murmured, watching John, "and what's this about her being in possession of my ship? She…died…when Anderson shot her," he trailed off.

"Not true," John replied as he set the warm milk on the counter top, going to search for some dry biscuits to go along with the drink as he stood there, watching Sherlock eat, "she was wearing a breastplate with a special bulletproof material. She faked her death to get out of Anderson's grasp then she came back to help us. Apparently she shot Anderson in the shoot out when we rescued you and she's claiming your ship and treasure as her prize."

"Apart from that John, we need to talk about us," Sherlock said as he looked to John.

"What's there to say? We were misunderstood…" John said as he looked to Sherlock, "truth is yes I was running from the Company. My mother and sister died, they never paid off the debts, so the Company came after me next when I killed one of their people. They thought they would collect their debt with my life. So I ran. I thought dying would be the best solution so when the ship I stowed away on sank I decided to go down with it…" John sighed it had been so long ago.

"But I found you," Sherlock said reaching to caress John's cheek.

At that John shied away, "Yeah…you did and…I fell in love with you. I realized I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to leave you. Whatever Anderson said-"

"It's not true," Sherlock said cutting John off, he knew. John wasn't the kind of person to steal for his benefit, "Anderson was lying. I shouldn't have gotten mad at you. I'm sorry. Ah, I'm not done yet," Sherlock said holding his finger to John's lips as the doctor wanted to open his mouth to apologise as well. "I'm sorry for not telling you that I was the Pirate King earlier. Being the Pirate King meant a lot of responsibilities and having tons of enemies against you…I didn't want to endanger you. I'd finally found the thing I wanted to protect the most, I thought I could keep it a secret for as long as possible to keep you safe…" Sherlock shrugged, taking a bite of the biscuit now as he washed it down with the warm milk.

John shook his head, smiling, "I was going to tell you when you threw me into your cabin," he said, leaning on the countertop now.

"I wanted to tell you at the helm that morning…but I guess I was a second too late," Sherlock murmured.

"It's over now anyway," John said, watching as Sherlock tipped his head back, finishing the warm milk, "Are you feeling better now?" he asked still worried, his hand reaching to touch Sherlock's forehead, it was still warm.

"It'd be better if I got a little something from you," Sherlock said smirking as he caught John's hand before the other could pull back fully.

Blushing, John leaned in over the counter, letting his eyes droop close as he pressed his lips to Sherlock. As their lips met, John sighed against them. Sherlock was well and alive, on his way to recovery and they were together. Everything he had ever wished for had come true. His prayers had been answered. Sherlock growled against the doctor's cool lips his hand tangling in golden blonde hair as he pulled John closer to him. This was pure bliss, kissing the doctor like this in the dim light of the kitchen.

It was just was he needed. In this moment they were complete. They could do anything together. Sherlock could feel it the way the air around them seemed to sing and the lamp near by seemed to burn brighter with John here. He smiled against John's lips as his tongue pushed between the doctor's lips making the doctor moan.

_'I love you John. I love you so much.'_


	32. Onwards

A week later when they were in the pirate haven of Tortuga, sitting in the private section in one of the bars, all of them well and together, they received news that the Company had turned on their leader Anderson, killing him and releasing the prisoners in the progress. The news had been Jim's doing. Buying over the townspeople to keep those that had seen silent. He also kept the officials from looking into the matter with money. He was the master at pulling strings and the matter had been covered up so well.

Right at the moment, Sherlock and Irene were bickering about the ship and the splitting of the treasure, a little ways away from their table and John stood right by Sherlock, listening as they talked.

"The ship is mine. I earned it you can't have it. I'll give you three quarters of my treasure haul, it'll be enough to get you a decent ship and a crew," Sherlock offered as he slipped his arm around John's waist, possessively pulling the doctor closer to him. He had recovered fully with John's help and the extremely vile concoction that was the tonic water. He swore he would never fall sick again. Though falling sick did have its own benefits, such as getting a little kiss as and when he asked from his doctor.

"Three quarters," Irene said a twinkle in her eyes, "you're being generous aren't you? Since you already have everything you need there," she teased indicating John.

"You did help, I'm only being fair," Sherlock said smirking, nearly everyone knew that John belonged to the Pirate King now and Sherlock didn't so much as mind, "Where are you going from here on out?" he asked as Irene turned to go and collect her treasure.

She shrugged, turning back to him, "To a corner of the sea that I can rule on my own. Maybe someday I can find a lover as good as the one you have," she said shaking her head as Sherlock nuzzled John, "You have fun Sherlock and you can bet you and I will cross paths again. Don't you forget me Sherlock," she said as she came back over to him and standing on tiptoes she kissed the Pirate King on the cheek. "See you Sherlock," Irene said waving her hand as she headed out of the bar.

John shook his head as Sherlock swiped his cheek from the woman's kiss, secretly happy that the other didn't care much for the woman's kisses. They walked back to the table now, that's when Jim stood, "I want to talk to you Sherlock. Alone."

At that John was a little shaken, he knew what the two had shared before and Jim having saved Sherlock…he looked to Sherlock who smiled at him reassuringly, "I won't stray. You have my word."

Nodding, John watched as Sherlock and Jim took their conversation out to the docks. Moran stood to go, following not far after Sherlock and Jim had left.

On the docks, there was the sound of the waves lapping against the sides of the ship. That along with the slight flapping sound of the canvas in the wind. Jim walked on ahead of Sherlock now, lost for words now that he had actually brought Sherlock out. He didn't know where to start.

"It's a nice night out isn't it?" Sherlock asked trying to fill in the silence. They hadn't been together and not fought since a long long time ago.

Jim laughed at that, shaking his head as he turned back to look at Sherlock, "You're still not good with words."

"Neither are you," Sherlock murmured.

"I want to tell you…when I left you back then…" Jim started as he swallowed the lump in his throat, "I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't like the fact that you were always the more…dominant one. Everyone always listened to you. They still do…"

"You just wanted to become a captain, didn't you?" Sherlock asked as he stopped beside Jim who stood leaning against the wooden beam on the pier.

"I just didn't like you being dominant Sherlock. I would much have preferred if you were like Moran. A follower," Jim murmured, "I missed you, you know? I wondered if leaving you was a bad idea. I thought what if you died back there. It would be all my fault."

"But I lived," Sherlock said as he looked up to the full moon, it's pale moonbeams shining down on the dark surface of the water.

"Yeah you did. You're strong," Jim murmured as he looked sideways at Sherlock. His heart clenched at the sight of Sherlock as the moon shone down on him, he was a masterpiece, the man was all he had ever wanted. Moran, he loved Moran but not as he loved Sherlock. Moran was too much of a yes man, he would follow every word of Jim's to the detail. He felt more like a servant, a bodyguard if anything. No, he couldn't love him now, Sherlock was John's lover.

"What?" Sherlock asked as he caught Jim looking at him, he knew that look, a look which Jim had given to him so long ago.

"Nothing," Jim said shaking his head. Here out on the docks with Sherlock, he knew where his heart was. "You better take care of yourself you know. Don't get yourself sick again. When John knew you had malaria he nearly died himself. He really loves you."

"Yes. John is…perfect," Sherlock nodded smiling at the thought of the doctor.

Sherlock was happy. At the mere thought of John he smiled. That was what true love was and Jim yearned for that so much. Maybe in time he could find that in Moran…maybe. "Well I should get going. The sea is mine for the conquering Pirate King!" Jim announced, "Just you wait. One day I will take over your title as Pirate King."

Sherlock broke into a smile, "You can try Jim. Just don't cross into my waters or I'll blast you right out of them," he said jokingly as he stood watching Jim turn and walk back down the way they had came. His back looked small, defeated and Sherlock just knew he had to put one thing straight, "Jim," he called, the other stopping in his tracks.

Jim was surprised when he felt Sherlock's lips press against his for a second, "Thank you," he heard Sherlock whisper as the Pirate King pulled away from him now.

"You're welcome," Jim whispered as he touched his lips. He could still feel the soft pressure of the fleeting kiss of Sherlock's. Just like that the man was gone and with it a part of him. But something in that kiss had felt a little off, Jim just couldn't put his finger on it.

From the shadows Moran appeared and Jim looked to the ex-militant. He was tall, intimidating, his blonde hair looked gold in the pale moonlight. His blue eyes were trained on him and the pink scar down the side of his face marred his rugged good looks.

"Can I?" Moran asked as he approached Jim.

Jim raised a brow as he looked up at the ex-millitan's request, "Can you?" he asked then he realized what Moran wanted and he blushed. Sebastian had never once asked, maybe that's why he never knew. Jim nodded it was only fair, after all that Moran had been through for him. He would treat this as a reward. Jim closed his eyes, feeling as Sebastian pulled him close, leaning down as he pressed his lips to his. Jim shuddered at the spark of electricity that ran through him.  _'That…didn't happen when Sherlock…'_  he thought, trailing off as he looped his arms around Sebastian's neck, pressing up close to the man. Maybe the one he had been searching for all this time had been by his side all along and he didn't know.

As the kiss deepened Jim's body tingled with want for the man that was kissing him. It had to be him, the one he wanted, the one he loved had to be Sebastian Moran.

* * *

The next day, the crew of the  _Bel Ange_  had stocked up on their supplies and they were ready to sail on the seven seas once more. With the threat of the Company removed now the seas were pretty much governed by the Pirate King now. Who could punish any pirate who did wrong as he deemed fit. That made Sherlock's life all the more busy though he still always kept his nights for just John and him. That morning as Sherlock woke up beside a still sleeping John, he thanked whatever god that had been listening to his prayers all this while. He had everything he ever wanted. Kissing John on his cheek and pulling the sheets up to cover John, he slipped out of bed, pulled on some clothes before he headed on deck. He knew just whom he needed to talk to and that would be his brother, Mycroft Holmes.

He found Mycroft not far from the helm – where Lestrade was – instructing the crew to swab the decks and clean out the cannons. Sherlock hadn't talked to his brother since what had happened. He knew he owed Mycroft some sort of thanks, but his brother likewise owed him a sort of apology. He approached his older brother now, tapping him on the shoulder, "Mycroft…" he began clearly noting the his brother's shock when the other turned around to see him, "I need to talk with you."

Sherlock walked across the deck now headed for the bow. He knew some time through his malaria fit he had probably muttered some sort of mush to his brother. But now he need to say it sincerely, mustering his courage, he took a deep breath, "I forgive you for what you did to me," Sherlock said.

"I know you told me when you were sick and dying in bed. It sounded much better then."

There it was again, the irritating way in which Mycroft spoke, "I wanted to tell you sincerely now though and I wanted to thank you. For…changing," Sherlock said trying to resist the temptation to say something else.

Mycroft was a little taken aback that his little brother hadn't answered back otherwise, maybe he did change with the malaria having burned his unlikeable side of his brain away or something, he thought, "I'm sorry as well. For selling you out, I just…you know I thought survival of the fittest…"

Sherlock nodded, "Yeah. Looks like I'm still better at that. Pirate King. Captain of the ship," he said he couldn't resist rubbing that in his brother's face. Maybe that's what always happened between siblings at no matter what age. You could fight, you could squabble, you could betray one another and yet still forgive them and go back to the way things were, because you loved them. They were your blood kin and nothing could change that deep rooted bond.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft growled as the younger briskly walked away from him now. Mycroft followed suit breaking into a chase as Sherlock ran across the deck of the ship now.

"Lestrade! Please take care of your pet!" Sherlock called shoving Lestrade into Mycroft's path just as Lestrade came down from the helm after finishing his duty.

Mycroft crashed head on into Lestrade, the two tumbling to the floor in a mess of limbs now. Lestrade smirked up at the other, locking his hands around Mycroft's waist and not letting the other go.

From the crow's nest Donovan called down to the deck, "Captain! I've spotted his ship on our waters again! Captain! It's Jim! Do we give chase?" she yelled down to the deck.

At the same moment, the bell for breakfast was rung by Molly, signaling that Mrs. Hudson was done with the cooking and that they could all have their share down in the galley.

Just then, Sherlock, caught John coming out of his cabin, he smirked, immediately barreling right into John and pushing him back into his cabin, "You're not going anywhere John. I'm going to have you for breakfast," Sherlock whispered as John shook his head, protesting.

"You just had me last night Sherlock!" John giggled as Sherlock began to lick the shell of his ear, gently nibbling on it as he kicked the door shut, leading him back past the beaded curtain and falling back into the bed once more.

"I'll never get enough of you, ever," Sherlock whispered, kissing John once more.

Outside the captain's cabin, the usual chaos of a pirate ship continued as the world continued to spin ever forward, bringing on further challenges for the pirates of the  _Bel Ange_.

_-FIN-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hey guys so this is the end of the story! I do hope that you guys enjoy it. Please do leave me a comment to let me know if you liked it and also to let me know about anything else (like if you want to see a sequel or something, you can leave me some ideas). Also, i've got a pol running on my profile page on my Fanfiction account (UN: Destielixer, or you can just click the link in my profile) so you guys should check it out and VOTE on which pairings you would like to see me write more about! Another thing is that i will be doing all my postings only on my Fanfiction account from now on so do visit it for more stories, i will finish up those that have yet to be completed here on AO3. I hope you enjoyed the journey of Pirates of Baker Street, it was really fun for me to write and i'll see you soon in some other story of mine that you decide to read! :)


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